King and Lionheart
by victoireweasleys
Summary: Everyone knows the Boy Who Lived, Tristan Potter, Gryffindor golden boy and all-around hero. And everyone knows to steer clear of his Slytherin twin, Harry Potter. But the Second War has begun and Hogwarts is calling for a savior – and it might not be who everyone thinks it is. The summer before their seventh year, everything begins to change. ―- HarryGinny, and others.
1. Birthdays and Balls

**notes:** i've always wanted to write a wrong boy who lived fic, as cliche as they are now, but i always thought people got too caught up in the beginnings and setting everything up, and then abandoned the fics halfway through first year without getting to any of the interesting stuff. so i decided to skip all the set-up and just jump to the interesting stuff, hence this story starting in the summer of 1997, before harry's seventh year. (i can't promise i won't abandon it, but at least i'll have written _some_ of the interesting stuff before i do.)

since this is au, i've taken some liberties with the canon hp timeline. voldemort is back, but he hasn't started attacking in earnest yet. the kids will all go to hogwarts and attend classes the way they did in canon sixth year. james and lily are alive, as are the other marauders. i wanted to explore a harry raised in pureblood society, and i didn't want to write the cliche arrogant and abusive family from other wrong bwl fics. i think the dynamic between the twins could be fascinating, if it's not reduced to "awful gryffindor bully" vs "harry the quiet abused bwl." they are brothers, after all, and james and lily are by all means good people. i don't believe in character bashing fics.

as far as ships go: harry/ginny is the main one, but there are others. most are het. there will be gay characters because it's unrealistic that hogwarts wouldn't have any gay kids. if that bothers you, please leave now. no star-crossed epic soulmate bond romances - just teenagers having feelings and being dumb about it, as teenagers often are. i am primarily a romance writer, so sorry if you're more into plot. there will be some cliches - the founders, slytherin harry, cool magical artifacts, etc - that i've always wanted to try my hand at and never had the chance to do so.

i hope you enjoy, and if you do, please take a moment to review, it would make my entire day!

* * *

 **July 1997, Rosevale Manor**

 _What wouldn't I give for some butterbeer…_

Ginny perused her options carefully. On the pink silk-draped table were a variety of wines, champagnes, and mixed margaritas and cocktails, all set in beautifully engraved glasses. She had already tried the Veela wine, the dewberry champagne, and the lemongrass-fire margarita, all of which she rated somewhere between 'wouldn't drink to save my life' and 'might use to put out a fire'.

 _But of course, I shouldn't expect the biggest party of the year to have anything so low-class as_ butterbeer. _Not when Daphne Greengrass is throwing it._

With a sigh, Ginny plucked a tall glass of a fizzy purple champagne and turned back to the dance floor. The main hall of Rosevale Manor was flooded with purebloods in their most aristocratic silks, posh accents ringing with fake laughter in every corner, and a flurry of dancing in the middle of the floor, mostly from the Slytherins.

 _Only Slytherins enjoy Slytherin parties, after all. Although I suppose my date is enjoying it more than me, since he's nowhere to be found._

Scanning the room, she finally found said date enconsced in a corner with – was that Anthony Goldstein and Parvati Patil? And Neville Longbottom as well, all four of them whispering quietly to each other.

 _So, a Dumbledore's Army meeting._ Ginny swallowed the champagne – it wasn't quite as bad as the dewberry, but nowhere near as good as some old-fashioned firewhiskey. _He could have asked me. It's not like I wasn't there at the Department of Mysteries, too. Unlike Goldstein and Parvati…_

 _I shouldn't be bitter. He invited me here in the first place. And didn't I tell him I just wanted to see how the other half lives?_

The answer to that question was, of course, 'magnificently'. Other than the Potters' own home manor of Queenswood, Ginny had never stepped foot in a house as ostentatiously pureblood as Rosevale Manor, home to the Greengrasses. Of course, Queenswood was kept homey and warm, despite its size. Rosevale loomed above her, an entity of gold and treasure. Her bedroom could probably fit in one of their bathrooms.

 _I thought I'd moved past jealousy, but this is just excessive. And of course, they have to flaunt it for everyone under the guise of a birthday party. Wouldn't be purebloods if they didn't._

The purebloods in question, the elder Greengrasses, were standing in the other room, where the adults were gathered while the teenagers partied on the dance floor. She had spotted Nathan and Olivia Greengrass on her way in, the matriarch of the family resplendent in their House colors of forest green and bronze, and thoroughly felt the blood traitor stink-eye they'd given her.

 _Their fault for inviting the Boy Who Lived, anyway. They're lucky Hermione couldn't come, or they'd have to deal with a muggleborn instead of just a blood traitor._

Her eye finally caught those of her date, and she raised her glass of champagne at him invitingly. Tristan Potter flashed her a smile – she knew this one, it was his most charming, the one he used on teachers all the time to get out of trouble – and then resumed his whispered conversation with Neville.

Ginny sighed. _What did I expect? He's a leader in an enemy zone. He's not here for romance or wine-tasting._

But her heart still sped up when she looked out at the dance floor and imagined Tristan twirling her onto it, right next to Daphne and Theodore Nott's smug faces. Though her blue dress was nowhere near as beautiful as Daphne's silver and green gown, she thought she had managed quite well with what she had.

"You know, the alcoholic content of mermaid champagne is actually pretty low."

Ginny jumped and whirled around. Green eyes set on a smirking face looked back at her, paired with the unmisteakable dark, messy hair and lightning bolt scar of the brother of her date – Harry Potter.

"Is that what this is?" she asked, lifting up her glass to look at it. "I thought mermaid champagne was blue."

"It comes in a variety of colors." Harry stepped around her to pick up a drink for himself, a glass of deep red wine. "But if you're looking to get drunk, I would try the wine."

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you _trying_ to get me drunk, Potter?"

"Don't flatter yourself. I know how you Gryffindors are about your alcohol." With a significant pause, he glanced over at his brother, who was currently laughing at some joke one of his friends had said. "The more the merrier, right?"

Not that he was wrong, but just to avoid admitting it, Ginny took another swig of the mermaid champagne. "I suppose being the brother of the Boy Who Lived makes you an expert on all things Gryffindor, right?"

Her eyes lingered pointedly on his green tie, the antithesis to his brother's red. Harry tugged on it once and grinned at her, as if she'd said something incredibly funny.

"It's not like Gryffindors are a particularly confusing species." Harry downed a gulp of his wine, then added, before she could retort, "I notice your brother isn't here. Or Hermione. Aren't they my brother's usual hanger-ons?"

Ginny shrugged nonchalantly. "Weasleys weren't invited. Too traitorous for these purebloods. He asked Hermione to be his plus-one, but she was going to Spain with her parents. Which left me."

Harry nodded. "Second choice. Must feel nice."

"Oh, fuck off, Potter," she sighed. "I didn't ask for your company. Why are you here? Don't _you_ have a date?"

"I do." Harry lifted a hand and waved at someone on the dance floor. Ginny followed his line of sight and found Luna Lovegood, dancing an odd jig by herself, wearing an olive-green dress that flared around her knees as she spun in circles. "She seems to be enjoying herself, at least."

Ginny eyed him. "Isn't Daphne one of your best friends? You're not enjoying her birthday party? Her _debutante ball_ , as the invitation put it?"

"She knows I hate parties."

"Your birthday's coming up," Ginny pointed out. "Tristan's having a huge party. Not for you?"

"Nah, I was thinking me and Blaise would just go out and get blackout drunk," Harry said, smirking again. "Beats hopping around the manor pretending I know how to dance."

"How festive," she muttered. "No wonder they call you the fun brother."

"Don't knock it till you've tried it," Harry said, raising his glass of wine towards her in a mock toast. "You haven't gone drinking until you've gone drinking with Slytherins."

"Tempting, but I'm going to have to pass." Ginny flicked her ponytail over her shoulder and looked around for a distraction. Tristan was still busy with his friends, of course. She supposed she could go talk to Luna, who was far more pleasant company than her date.

 _Although… he could've brought any old Slytherin girl. Why would he pick Luna Lovegood? I'm sure Daphne's not a huge fan of Loony from Ravenclaw…_

"How come you brought a DA member, Potter?" she asked, curious in spite of herself. "Luna's great, but I didn't think she was your type."

Harry snorted. "We're here as friends. Am I not allowed to fraternize with Dumbledore's Army?"

"Just thought you'd want to keep up your reputation as the scary, evil Slytherin brother," Ginny teased.

"Is that what you think of me?" Harry pressed a hand to his chest. "I'm hurt, Ginny."

"Please." Ginny rolled her eyes. "You love it. There's a reason you only have two friends."

"Hey, I have three friends," he protested. "If you include Luna."

Ginny opened her mouth to retort, but was cut short by someone loudly clearing their throat from center stage. All eyes turned to the middle of the room, where a path cleared for Nathan and Olivia Greengrass, both of them smiling beatifically at their audience.

"Today," said Nathan, his voice ringing clear over all the noise, "we are here to celebrate my eldest daughter and heiress' coming of age. On this night, Daphne Violetta Greengrass becomes a witch of seventeen years, and a woman in her own right."

He extended a hand to his wife, who took it and offered the other to her daughter. Daphne climbed up the steps and took her place at her mother's side, beaming around at everyone. They made quite a picture – Nathan, in his silver robes, Olivia with her green and bronze gown, and Daphne glowing in silver and green silk.

For the first time, Ginny noticed the emerald pendant dangling at her neck, glinting off the chandelier lights.

 _A quintessentially pureblood birthday gift… Ron got a watch. I shouldn't be ungrateful._

But it was hard not to be jealous as Olivia spoke of Daphne's beauty and grace, what a pleasure she was to the community – _their community, pureblood community, Death Eater community_ – and how she excelled in school.

"I thank you all for being here today," Daphne said when her mother finished, her voice clear and beautiful, words lilted by her posh accent. Her blond curls cascaded down her back, brown eyes bright. She looked like a princess.

Ginny glanced sidelong at Harry, who was focused on the stage. _What I don't understand is how she and Harry are so close… they couldn't possibly be more different._

At her other side, Luna appeared without warning, as if summoned from thin air, and whispered, "It's a beautiful ceremony, isn't it? So many Blue-Winged Traibells fluttering around. Daphne ought to be careful, though, because they love causing mischief as much as they love beauty."

Ginny nodded absentmindedly. "Yeah, she should be careful."

She found Tristan in the crowd, also watching Daphne on the stage, although with much less fondness than his twin brother. _Another thing I have never understood, in seven years of knowing them – how different can two brothers be?_

Tristan caught her eye and made a face. Ginny quickly covered her mouth to stop herself from giggling and interrupting Daphne's speech.

"My dear," Nathan Greengrass was saying when she tuned back in, "we are honored, today, to place the House of Greengrass in your hands. You will be our heiress, our future, and the guardian of our home. In time, you will create a new family, and bring fresh blood into our House. Do you accept this honor?"

"I do," said Daphne solemnly, placing one hand in her father's palm and the other in her mother's.

"Why does this sound like a wedding?" Ginny murmured under her breath, either to Luna or to Harry, she didn't particularly care.

It was Harry who answered. "Because it is one. Or, an engagement at the very least. Watch."

"I ask Theodore Nott to join me on stage," Daphne said, dropping her parents' hands – and now sporting a new bracelet, which Ginny had missed her getting, a silver-and-pearl chain. "And share with me my first dance as heiress to the House of Greengrass."

Theodore Nott emerged from the crowd, a smirk on his face, no doubt at having been chosen above all the other eligible pureblood bachelors in Daphne's year. He wore his brown hair slicked back and a silver tie to complement Daphne's dress over his black suit. From his pocket, he removed another bracelet, this one of gold and emeralds, and slid it onto her bare wrist.

"I would be honored," he said, with a sweeping bow, before offering Daphne his arm. She beamed, accepted his hand, and let him spin her back onto the dance floor, everyone else backing away to give them the whole floor to themselves.

"So… now they're stuck with each other," Ginny mused, watching them dance as the music swelled around them. _I have to admit, they do make a good-looking couple, in that pointy-faced snooty pureblood way._ "Forever."

"Nothing's forever," Luna said. "But if they don't marry in the year after they graduate, the Jagbats will surely eat their homes."

"Surely," Ginny agreed. She glanced over at Harry to see him smiling. "What's so funny, Potter?"

"Nothing." He raised his glass – he'd gotten a new one, this one a blue-green cocktail of some sort – to take a sip. "I suppose this custom's fallen out among some families – like yours. And mine, I guess. But the Greengrasses are very traditional."

"What, you won't be having your own debutante ball later this month?" Ginny challenged. "You _are_ the heir, aren't you?"

"I find myself lacking a fiancée," Harry said dryly. "Unless Luna wants to marry me."

"Oh, no," Luna said with a sigh. "You're very interesting, Harry, but I'm afraid the Lightbreaking Swivennes living in your scar aren't at all compatible with me."

Harry snapped his fingers. "Damn those Swivennes."

Ginny smiled at Luna. "You're dodging a bullet here. I heard a rumor he feeds girls he doesn't like to the Whomping Willow."

"That's right," Harry said solemnly. Luna giggled. "Better run fast or you'll be bark-bait."

Before Ginny could analyze the odd sensation of actually enjoying Harry Potter's company, the chandelier lights flickered and went out. The room sank into pitch black darkness. For a second, nobody breathed.

Then somebody screamed. Ginny snapped her wand out; on both sides she could see Luna and Harry doing the same by the Lumos spell she had cast. Pinpricks of light from others' wands appeared, but not before the unmistakable sound of –

" _Avada Kedavra_!"

The green light rushed towards her.

Ginny stared at it, wand trembling in her hands.

At the last second, two arms wrapped around her and shoved her to the ground.

The spell went whizzing by and a body hit the floor behind her. Ginny couldn't breathe, her throat closing up. Harry was still on top of her, shielding her with his body, one hand pressed to her mouth so she wouldn't inadvertantly make a sound.

More screaming. She could see flashes of red and blue – defense spells – and hear Tristan's voice yelling for her. But even if Harry had moved his hand, she couldn't speak.

 _Someone tried to kill me._

Luna knelt down by the two of them, somehow unperturbed by the chaos. She passed something small to Harry and whispered, "I'll be fine. Go, quickly."

The next thing she knew was the compression of the world around her and the portkey taking them far, far away.


	2. Messengers and Maps

**Unknown Safe House**

Ginny awoke with a start to the sound of a fire crackling somewhere near her.

She glanced down. She was laid out on a soft, worn-out couch that reminded her of her home, with a blanket spread over her. Her instincts didn't sense danger, but she searched for her wand, anyways.

 _This is a war. Better prepared than not._

But as she got her wand in hand and scrambled to a sitting position, she had to admit that she didn't look to be in any immediate danger. The room was a small, comfortable space, filled with warm reds and golds, exceedingly Gryffindor. The fireplace was in front of her couch; she could see an archway that led to a little kitchen with a dining table behind her. Along the walls were bookshelves and a few paintings, but no photographs.

"Are you awake?"

She jumped and turned to see Harry emerging from the kitchen, carrying two mugs of steaming hot liquid in his hands.

"Where am I?" she demanded, pointing her wand at him.

He didn't seem perturbed. "You're at a safe house. One of the Order's. Do you remember Daphne's party?"

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. "How do I know you're really Harry Potter?"

Harry shrugged. "Ask me something."

She had to think about it. With Tristan, it would have been easy – anything about Dumbledore's Army, or the Department of Mysteries battle, or the Chamber of Secrets would have done the trick – _Wait._

"When you found me in the Chamber of Secrets, what did I say to you?"

"Trick question, you were passed out cold from being possessed by Riddle," Harry replied. Ginny raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh, you mean after you woke up? You said, 'I'm sorry', and then, 'Is Tristan okay?', and then, 'How did you find me?'"

"You make it sound so much less dramatic than it was," Ginny said with a huff, dropping her hand. "I also said 'Thanks for saving me,' even though you didn't actually do anything."

"Hey, we can't all be sword-fighting basilisk slayers," said Harry. "Besides…" He hissed something at her that made her jump, although she couldn't understand it. "You don't think Tristan and Ron could've managed it without this particular ability of mine, do you?"

"Speaking snake-tongue at me is not helping ease any suspicions, you know that?"

 _Although, neither of technically spoke the truth. If I recall correctly, you were the one who took the sword and stabbed the diary so_ he _disappeared._

But if he wasn't going to bring it up, neither was she.

Harry smirked and handed her one of the mugs. "You could be a little nicer to the guy who saved you from a Killing Curse, you know that?"

Ginny peered down into her mug. It looked like regular hot chocolate, but one could never be too sure around Slytherins. "I suppose, but the cons of being nice to you far outweigh the benefits."

"Ouch." Harry walked around and sat down on an armchair next to the couch, taking a sip of his own hot chocolate as he did so.

She tapped her wand to the mug, muttering a spell. The mug glowed golden for a moment. _Well, it's not poisoned._

"You really don't trust me," Harry said in mock-hurt, watching as she finally took a sip of the hot chocolate. It was unfairly delicious. "I made that myself, with my own hands, and you think I would poison you?"

Ginny sat back down properly and tossed him a smile. "Trusting Slytherins is the fastest way to get bit by a snake."

"You wound me, my lady," Harry said. "Here I thought we were becoming friends."

His expression tugged a smile out of her, before she remembered why they were here in the first place. "What happened at the party? Someone tried to kill me – and then we were here."

Harry's humor faded away. "Undercover Death Eaters. Or, maybe not that undercover. They must have heard that Daphne invited the Boy Who Lived…" His mouth twisted, angry and upset. "It was her _birthday party_."

Ginny set aside her thoughts of exactly how Death Eaters had snuck into Daphne Greengrass' birthday party. _How hard could it be? She invited most of the purebloods… not now, Ginny. Later, when you're with the DA._

"Okay, so Death Eaters showed up." She shook her hair out of her face and realized belatedly that she really needed a shower; she had no idea how long it had been since the night of the party. "Why did they go for me first? Is it because – is it because I was there with Tristan?"

Harry shook his head. "Do you really think the Death Eaters care about who Tristan dates? If they just wanted to hurt _him_ , they would go after our sister, or maybe our cousin in the Muggle world. No, they went for you because _you_ were at the Department of Mysteries."

Ginny's eyes widened. "At the – oh, god. There were six of us there, are we all in danger?"

"Weren't you always?" Harry pointed out. "You're the daughter of the Weasleys. And yes, that's why I gave Luna that portkey, just in case something happened. But she gave it to us, since I can't legally Apparate before my seventeenth birthday." He paused, frowning. "Did Tristan not give you a portkey?"

"Did he…?" Ginny frowned, looking down at herself. "He did. I remember, it was – " Her hand reached for her throat and found the necklace she'd almost forgotten was sitting there, a golden ball pendant hanging from a silver chain. "This. He said it would take me to a safe house. I must have forgotten…"

Harry shook his head. "It was a lot of chaos. I should've checked for a portkey on you, but Luna got there first." He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "It's only been a few hours but… if I don't hear from her soon…"

Ginny looked at him curiously. "How are you expecting to hear from her? If this is a safe house, we can't get owl mail, can we?"

"No, but she'll find a way." Harry smiled slightly over the top of his mug. "Luna's pretty resourceful when she wants to be. Plus, weren't you guys working on your Patronuses in the DA? If you're good enough at summoning one, you can use them as messengers. And I bet anything Luna is good enough."

"You have a lot of faith in her," Ginny said. _Not necessarily misplaced though… Luna definitely had a corporeal Patronus last time we practiced those._

"Don't you?" Harry asked.

Ginny nodded and turned her attention back to her hot chocolate, letting it warm her up before she coalesced the rest of her thoughts. "What about Tristan? Have you heard from him?"

"Not yet." Harry shook his wrist to look at his watch. "He can get to us, if he needs to. This is an old family residence of ours, so he'll know where to look."

"Right." Ginny took another look around the little living room, noticing again all the Gryffindor touches, the red and gold, the lion's heads on either side of the mantelpiece. "An old Potter home, huh? It's pretty nice."

"So says the Gryffindor," Harry muttered, but he didn't seem annoyed. "You all are really insistent on making everything red and gold and lion-themed, aren't you?"

Ginny lifted her head. "Lions are _cool_."

"So are snakes!" he said, a laugh hidden in his voice.

"Oh, yeah, little noodles sliding around in the grass are just as cool as lions," Ginny mocked. "Come talk to me when your mascot has four legs and a mane, okay?"

"You – " Harry began, but was interrupted by a burst of silver light exploding in the middle of the room. Ginny nearly spilled hot chocolate on herself before the light solidified into the shape of a large stag.

 _A Patronus… and if I'm not mistaken, it's Tristan's._

Sure enough, Tristan's voice came forth from the stag's mouth. "None of us died, but it's not safe yet. Stay where you are."

The stag faded into silver mist and then dissipated. Harry heaved a sigh and set his mug down on the coffee table next to him before rising to his feet.

"Good news, I guess," Ginny said, still staring at where the stag had been. _None of us died, that's good – that means Luna and everyone we care about is safe. But that also means the Death Eaters didn't die… they're still out there. And somebody_ did _die, even if it's no one we knew._

 _Died from the Killing Curse meant for me._

"I'll get the bedrooms ready," Harry said with a sigh. "Since we'll have to stay here at least a night. I just wish…"

As if in answer to his unspoken wish, a silver rabbit bounded into the room. Ginny sat up straight as Luna began speaking through her Patronus.

"Don't worry," she said, and even through the Patronus, her voice sounded dreamy and faraway. "I'm safe. I'll see you both in a day or two."

"Patronus messengers can't handle long messages," Harry said to Ginny, who was blinking at the rabbit's disappearance. "You have to be quick and concise. But she got us some good information – they'll hopefully have apprehended the Death Eaters soon. The Order must be on their trail."

Ginny slumped down in her seat. "That's good," she murmured, mostly to herself. Her fingers curled around the ball pendant Tristan had given her, wondering which safe house he would have taken her to. "So, we're safe."

"For now." Harry stopped at the archway into the back hallway. "Are you okay?"

She shook her head. "My parents… my brothers, they'll be worried sick. I can cast a Patronus, but I don't think I can do a messenger…"

Harry nodded, moving back towards her. "I'll handle it. There's a bathroom down there, why don't you get cleaned up?"

Ginny looked at him in surprise. "Really?" When he shrugged, she carefully untangled herself from the blanket and stood up. "Thank you. But… I'd like to see the message."

"All right." Harry took a deep breath and aimed his wand at the center of the room. " _Expecto Patronum_!"

Ginny's eyes widened as a wolf burst forward, about half as tall as her and large enough to take down a lion. Harry knelt down next to his loping Patronus and tapped his wand to its mouth, opening it to reveal glowing silver canine teeth.

"To Arthur and Molly Weasley," he said, and waited for the wolf to nod before continuing. "Ginny is safe. We will return when the Order says." He tapped the wolf's mouth again and it snapped its jaw shut before racing off through the closed door of the cottage in a burst of silver light, leaving mist behind.

"Thank you," Ginny said again, quietly. "That – that's an amazing Patronus."

Harry turned to look at her with a half-grin. "Isn't it? Tristan was super jealous when I cast mine first."

Ginny almost laughed. "Yeah, Ron was the same way, actually." She paused, thinking of how similar their stories were. "And… thanks. For saving me back at the party."

Harry inclined his head. "You're welcome. Pick your room, there's three of them. Lady's choice."

"You are ever so kind," she said, pressing a hand to her chest and pretending to swoon. Harry smirked at her and it felt a little like being home.

* * *

 **Queenswood Manor**

Tristan looked up as the door to his room opened with a bang. On the other side of it, Ron Weasley stood, eyes wide with panic and fear.

"Is she – " Ron began, but the words died before he could finish his sentence.

"Yeah, she is," Tristan said, getting to his feet and standing in front of his best friend. "She and Harry got away. They're fine. We're all fine."

 _If I keep repeating it, maybe I'll start to believe it, too._

 _How many times did I almost die tonight? How many times did I not even know?_

Ron exhaled heavily and bowed his head, eyes closing. "Okay. Do you know where she is?"

Tristan gestured at a map on the wall just behind him. "The Order has safe houses set up all over the country. If she took my portkey, she'll be in one of the Potter homes. If she took Harry's portkey, she'll also be in a Potter home but a different one. We have five they could be in, but it's not wise to go looking just yet."

Ron's face twisted. "She's my _sister_ , Tristan – "

 _And I would be just the same if it was Elissa who had been targeted. Can't exactly fault him._

"I know," Tristan said quickly. "Believe me, I know. But until the Order catches those Death Eaters – or, at least, until we know who they are, so they can't surprise us like that again, we have to lay low. You're in just as much danger as she is."

 _Because of me_ , he didn't say. _Because I took you to the Department of Mysteries._

For a moment, it seemed like Ron wanted to argue, but then he sighed and the fight went out of him. "You've been spending too much time around Hermione. It's not good to be right all the time."

Tristan cracked a grin and patted him on the shoulder. "Mate, we all know if one of us is spending too much time around Hermione, it's you." He looked at Ron significantly as his best friend flushed red. "If it makes you feel better, Mum and Dad had to explain this all to me, too. I was about to go charging back to the Greengrasses to find her."

Ron snorted and sank down onto a chair in the corner of his room, opposite the bed. "The Greengrasses. God, when I get my hands on Daphne and that smug little git she calls a boyfriend…"

Tristan sat down on his bed and then collapsed backwards, lying sideways over the blankets. "You know Daphne's not a Death Eater," he countered. "Dunno about Nott, but… Harry would never hang out with her if she were."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but she doesn't have to be a _Death Eater_ to let them in her house, does she? If it wasn't her, it was her parents. Or – what's her name, that little sister of hers, Asteria?"

"Astoria," Tristan corrected absently. "Doubt it. She's a Ravenclaw. And she was in the DA, remember? No, it was either her parents or else… it was a surprise to them, too. But it had to have been someone they invited, there were no signs of a break-in."

"A surprise to them," Ron said with a disbelieving laugh. "Yeah, right. You know how those purebloods are. If they're not already in You-Know-Who's pocket, their brothers and sisters are."

Tristan stayed silent. Ron was right, unfortunately – there was no trusting that circle of purebloods. _All Slytherins, all totally pure, most of them hate muggles… but Daphne wouldn't. Or, if she would, then Harry's an idiot. But Harry's not an idiot._

"She's safe, right?" Ron said after a moment of silence. "With Harry, I mean? He'll… take care of her?"

"Of course," Tristan said immediately. "I know you don't like him, but he's not Malfoy."

"Yet," Ron muttered darkly. Tristan lifted his head up to shoot him a look and he protested, "Well, until we clear Daphne, we can't clear _him_. They're best friends. And who knows what goes down in those Slytherin dungeons. It doesn't bother you that he's spent the last six years surrounded by snakes?"

"Harry's stronger than Slytherin propaganda," Tristan said. "And, come on, our mum's a muggleborn. You don't _really_ think he's going to go Dark, do you?"

Ron sighed again and slumped lower. "No," he admitted. "It just worries me, that's all. My little sister, alone with a Slytherin… don't act like you wouldn't feel the same, if it was Elissa."

Tristan raised an eyebrow at him. "Elissa was raised with a Slytherin, you know."

Ron rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean. What if it was Malfoy? Or…" He cast around for a more suitable Slytherin than Tristan's sworn arch-nemesis. "Zabini. What if it was Zabini who had to keep Elissa safe?"

"If it was Malfoy, she would murder him," Tristan said dismissively. "Zabini… I guess you're right. I'd want her back as soon as possible."

 _But Blaise is Harry's best friend, too. I should trust him a little more._

 _But_ , another part of his mind argued, _is now really the time for trusting Slytherins? There's a war starting._

"Blaise isn't that bad," he said aloud, mostly to the voice in his head. "Not even half as annoying as Malfoy."

"No," Ron agreed. "But it would be weird, right?"

The door opened before Tristan could find a reply. Elissa leaned around the edge of it, her dark red curls framing her face, unusually solemn for his bright and upbeat little sister.

"Hermione's here," she said to both of them. "And Neville and Luna. They're in your study. Mum and Dad are still at the Order meeting."

"Thanks, Ells," Tristan said, getting off his bed as Ron stood up at the same time. Elissa nodded and darted off. He glanced over at his best friend. "DA meeting?"

Ron nodded, face set. "DA meeting."

* * *

 **Rosevale Manor**

"Whatever you are implying, _Lady Potter_ , I assure you we had no intention of hosting Death Eaters in our home!"

Astoria winced as her mother rose to her full height in disdainful rage. Not many people could stare down Olivia Greengrass when she had deigned herself to be better than them; apparently, Lily Potter was one of them.

 _It's either Gryffindor courage or Gryffindor stupidity…_

The two women glared at each other, green eyes into blue. Astoria was almost afraid they would start casting spells, but Lily spoke before anything too terrible could happen.

"Then, Lady Greengrass, you will have no problem providing a guest list for my husband," Lily said, crossing her arms. "I presume you made one of those prior to the ball?"

Olivia's lip curled, but she nodded stiffly and swept out of the sitting room, leaving Astoria watching the mother of the Boy Who Lived, along with Daphne, Theo, and Blaise, who were sitting in the corner. Daphne and Theo were whispering to each other; Blaise looked remarkably unconcerned, considering all that had happened in the last few hours.

Lily caught Astoria's gaze and managed a feeble smile. "Sorry for bursting in on your house like this," she said, sounding genuinely apologetic. "I know it must have been scary."

Astoria shrugged and smiled back at her Arithmancy teacher. "It was, but it's over now. And we're all safe." She glanced over at her sister and the boys. _Although Merlin knows I wouldn't have minded if Nott got scratched up a little. Just enough to wipe that smirk off his face…_

"Professor," Blaise called from the corner, and both Lily and Astoria turned to look at him. He was sprawled out on a chair while Daphne and Theo shared the loveseat, the picture of careless elegance. But his face was lined with worry for the first time as he looked at his best friend's mother. "Is Harry okay?"

Lily nodded. "He sent a message. He's in a safe house, and he'll be staying there until we find those Death Eaters. Nothing happened to you guys, right?"

"Just shock," Blaise assured her, glancing at Daphne, who huffed. "Well, and ruining Daphne's birthday party. That's just unforgivable."

Lily smiled again, just as Olivia returned to the room, carrying a scroll of parchment with a list of names written on it. Lily accepted it with a much less humorous smile.

 _I can tell what she's thinking. Mother could have Summoned the list, but she went and got it, which means she did something. Like erased a name…_

 _But that's only if she knew who the Death Eaters were and wanted to cover them up. Which I'm not sure she would, unless it were someone in our family._

Astoria sighed and got up from her chair, walking out of the room and into the hallway. Whatever her mother had done or not done, it was Lily and James Potter's problem now. She could hear the voices of her father and James Potter, arguing over something in the drawing room.

So caught up in her thoughts of her parents and other people's parents, she almost didn't notice when she ran into Draco Malfoy.

"Oh!" Astoria blinked, nearly stumbling from the slight impact. Draco caught her arm before she could. "Draco… what are you still doing here?"

He looked troubled, his gray eyes stormy. "I… was just leaving. The others already left, right?"

"All except for Theo and Blaise," Astoria confirmed. "Where were you?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "James Potter wanted to talk to me," he muttered in disgust. "Since my father is…" He trailed off, mouth twisting.

 _In prison for being a Death Eater_ , Astoria supplied, but was kind enough not to say it out loud. "Right, of course. You got everything cleared up?"

Draco glanced back at her, the lines of worry on his face easing up. "Yeah, I answered all his questions. I'm sure my mother's worried, so… I should get going." He didn't move though, looking at her searchingly. "Do they have any idea who did it?"

He gestured at the sitting room where Astoria's mother still was, along with the others. Astoria followed his gaze and shook her head.

"Oh," Draco said, his tone suspiciously light. "Well, the Ministry is incompetent, so I doubt the Aurors will be able to figure it out."

Astoria frowned. "You know it's not the Aurors looking, right?"

 _And you seem a little too happy about that, anyways._

"Right." Draco's lip curled. "The Order of the Phoenix, is it? I suppose they're the reason none of us died."

"Two people did die," Astoria pointed out, smoothing down her purple dress in an effort to distract herself from the horror of the memory. "Stray Killing Curses, both of them… Alwyn Runcorn and Lydia Nettles. No one we knew personally, though."

 _Just friends of the family… random purebloods who never took a side and never asked for the war. Which is more than I can say for Draco…_

"Mm," Draco said thoughtfully, and when she looked back up at him, he was gazing at her like it was the first time he'd seen her. "I saw you in there, you know. You cast that shield charm for your sister and Theo. Does she know you're the one who saved her?"

"She doesn't need to." Astoria could feel her cheeks heat up. She slid her fingers into the pocket of her dress to curl a hand around her DA galleon as an anchor. "We're all just trying to protect our families, right?"

The look on his face grew haunted. "Yeah… I guess we are."

A terrible knot tangled itself inside her the longer he stared at her, compounded by her unease. _Protecting your family… and his family is Death Eaters… and there were Death Eaters at my house… and he was invited to the party…_

But before she could give voice to any of these suspicions, Draco had walked away. Astoria turned to watch him go, a great sinking lead weight settling inside her stomach as she did.


	3. Secret for Secrets

**notes:** yeah i know harry being an animagus is cliche, but this story is for me to write all the old cliches how i like them. don't worry, he's only got one animal not ten (i'm sure the animal is cliche too but what can ya do.) this is meant to be more of a family/society-focused fic not a superpowered harry one. as for sirius, we will see him... soon. probably. after harry gets out of the safe house.

* * *

 **Potter Family Safe House**

Whatever Ginny had been expecting for their first day alone in the safe house, it wasn't anything quite as uneventful as what she got. She'd known Harry was a loner – while people gravitated towards Tristan, Harry had kept the same two friends for six years and not made any real efforts to expand – but she had thought he might still appreciate the company of another person, when they were the only two in the place.

But all he did was cook for her – she probably could have managed it herself, but he knew the kitchen much better than she did – and leave the meals on the counter or in the fridge for her to consume at her leisure. The rest of the time, she spent wandering around the little cottage, and he stayed in his chosen bedroom, doing Merlin knows what.

She assumed reading. There wasn't a whole lot else to do in the house. But with so many wards up, he could have easily been practicing magic, or just talking to himself. Slytherins did that, right?

 _I suppose the sum of the problem is: I'm bored. We can't leave. And we only have each other to entertain us._

Mind made up, Ginny got off her bed and headed down the hallway to see what Harry Potter was up to tonight. _Do I need an excuse? 'Sorry, I was going out of my mind with boredom and I wondered if you wanted to play Exploding Snaps or muggle card games or literally anything else because I'm dying out here.'_

 _That should do the trick._

There were faint sounds of music coming from inside his room. She knocked, and received no answer, so she tried the doorknob. It twisted easily and the door swung silently open at her push.

"Oh," she said when he turned to look at her. She hadn't been expecting him to only be half-dressed. "Sorry. I – "

Harry reached over to his dresser and pressed a button on the muggle radio player he'd had going. "Don't worry about it," he said. Ginny didn't know how she _couldn't_ worry about it – he was only wearing jeans, his hair still damp from a shower, a green shirt lying innocuously on his unmade bed. And he looked…

 _Good. He looks really good._

She'd seen Tristan shirtless before – Quidditch practice, training drills, and an unfortunate side effect of practically living with him most summers – but Harry's body was leaner and taller, if not more muscled. And, if she hadn't hallucinated it, he had scars on his back that she knew weren't mirrored on Tristan's skin.

"Do you wanna come in?" Harry prodded, and Ginny blinked herself back to reality to find him picking up his shirt from the bed. When he looked at her, there was a smirk on his face. "I'm going to assume this isn't your first time seeing a boy shirtless, even though you're acting like it."

Her cheeks turned red. "Of course not, I – what are you implying?"

"I wouldn't dare imply anything," Harry said, a bit too mockingly for her taste. He tugged the shirt on and her gaze jumped traitorously back up to his face. "Did you want something?"

"No, I…" Ginny paused to gather her thoughts. She'd definitely had a reason for coming here. "I was just bored. What are you doing in here?"

Harry quirked an eyebrow, glancing pointedly at his bathroom door. "Showering."

Ginny flushed a deeper shade of red, but said resolutely, "I mean, in general. You've been locked up in here most of the day."

Harry shrugged. "Sorry, I don't know what Gryffindors consider suitable entertainment – actually I do – but I've just been reading." He gestured at a bookshelf scattered with random books, some muggle and some wizard. "Not much else to do around here."

"I've noticed," Ginny muttered. He hadn't suggested he wanted her to leave, so she took a step further into his room. "Any new Patronus messages? Or any kind of messages?"

"If I get one, you'll be the first to know," Harry said dryly.

Ginny crossed her arms. They seemed to be at an impasse. "Do you want to do something?" she ventured finally.

"Like what?"

"Like…" She gestured at the window. "There's a backyard out there. If it's under the wards, we could, I don't know, fly around. There must be brooms here, right?"

Harry shook his head. "Too much of a risk of accidentally flying outside the wards. And the backyard is small. This isn't a manor."

"I know that." Ginny tried not to sound too sharp, but she supposed a clash was inevitable, given that he was a Slytherin and she was a Gryffindor, and she was pretty sure they were honor-bound to not get along. No matter how well things had been going yesterday. "We could play cards. Chess. Checkers?"

"As scintillating as those options sound…"

"Stop that," Ginny interrupted. He raised his eyebrows at her. "Stop – being all annoyingly Slytherin and disdainful and bored with everything. Just because the rest of your House thinks they're all too good for us plebian folks doesn't mean you actually _are_."

Harry blinked at her. He almost looked impressed. "I don't think I'm better than you," he said slowly, then added with just a trace amount of teasing to his tone, "Except maybe at catching the snitch."

"Oh, really?" Ginny tossed her hair and stood up straighter, to gain even a tiny bit of height, although he was several inches taller than her. "When we get back to Queenswood, I'm gonna make you eat those words. One-on-one Seeker match, just you and me."

Harry considered her for a moment, then said, "Deal."

"Good." Ginny let herself feel pleased for a minute, before remembering why she'd actually come here. "You're really just going to stay in here and read the whole time?"

Harry shrugged and sat down on his bed. "Unless you have a better suggestion. And I'm not that fond of games."

Ginny leveled him a look. "Odd, for a Slytherin."

Harry grinned wolfishly at her. "I am odd for a Slytherin, thanks."

She rolled her eyes. "Can we at least just talk? I need company or else I'm going to drive myself mad."

"Gryffindors," Harry said with a mock huff. "Always need entertainment."

"Sorry we can't all be as _boring_ as you."

He smirked. "All right, you first. What's on your mind, Miss Weasley?"

"Don't call me that, you sound like one of my teachers."

"My mother is one of your teachers, I'm perfectly entitled to call you that. Would you prefer 'Weasley'? I feel like that would get confusing, since there's so many of you."

"What's wrong with 'Ginny?'" she demanded

"Nothing, I suppose." He tilted his head. "Is there a reason your parents named you after the queen who famously cheats on her husband who shares the same name as your _father_?"

Ginny stared at him. "No."

"Hm."

"Oh, shut up, what about you? What kind of a name is Harry? It's not even short for anything!"

"Am I supposed to take name complaints seriously from a girl who named her owl _Pigwidgeon_?"

Ginny huffed. "Whatever. Okay, here's a game – secret for secret. I tell you one, you tell me one."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "That's not a real game. You're just trying to swindle me out of all my secrets, aren't you?"

"It's a real game!" she defended. "We play it in Gryffindor common room. It's how I found out your brother was secretly studying to be an Animagus last year."

Harry tilted his head. "You couldn't have figured that out on your own? He's not very good at secrets."

"True." Ginny paused, considering it. "Well… either way, he hasn't mastered the transformation yet, anyway, so it's a moot point. Dunno why he didn't just tell us in the first place, I think he's been spending too much time with Dumbledore, all these great big secrets…"

She trailed off and looked over to find Harry smirking at her. "What?"

He shrugged. "Here's a secret: I already am an Animagus."

Ginny blinked. " _What_?"

"Yeah, I mean, after the whole Triwizard Tournament, our Defense teachers keep trying to kill us, now Voldemort is back too, drama, I figured it wouldn't hurt to have some extra secret abilities." Harry smiled. "I talked Tristan into it, too, but he kept waffling so I got ahead of him. I only managed it last year."

He paused, then added, "And don't go telling any of your Gryffindor gaggle. They cannot keep secrets. Only Blaise and Daphne know."

"Gryffindor gaggle?" she repeated, before shaking her head. "Wait, so what's your animal?"

"Secret for a secret," Harry said nonchalantly.

Ginny sighed. _Fair is fair._ "One time, I spelled Ron's broom to only fly backward all summer and blamed it on the twins."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I tell you a secret that any Death Eater would kill to have, and you tell me about some stupid prank?"

"It was a good prank, he's still never figured it out," she protested. "And you're around Death Eaters all the time, if they wanted to kill you, they would have already."

He leveled an unimpressed look at her. "Tell me something better."

 _Maybe I am being a bit too stubborn with my secrets, since I'm the one who suggested the game… but I didn't think he'd tell me anything so important, either._

"Okay," she said slowly. "For years… I had this huge crush on your brother."

"That's common knowledge," Harry said dismissively.

"I'm not finished," Ginny snapped. "I wrote him this awful Valentine's card once, when I was younger… it said he had eyes as brown as mud after rain." She waited patiently while Harry started snickering. "I thought it was poetic at the time."

"Very poetic," Harry managed through his laughter. "Oh, he didn't tell me that one, that's good."

"I'm still not done," she said, and waited again for him to stop laughing before she continued. "It was one of… one of the things I wrote to Tom about. In the diary. He used it to manipulate me, telling me about how I could get Tristan to love me back."

Ginny took a deep breath. Harry's laughter had faded, and his gaze was solemn as he stared at her.

"When I – when I finally moved on, from Tristan, it was like I was moving on from the diary, too. The things Tom taunted me about, none of them were relevant anymore – I didn't feel so overshadowed by my brothers, I had friends so I wasn't lonely, and I didn't have some pathetic crush on the Boy Who Lived anymore."

"So… you're better now?" Harry asked after a beat of silence.

Ginny smiled humorlessly. "I thought I was. But it's never that easy. Ever since the Department of Mysteries, I've been having the nightmares again. It was never really about Tristan, I just kidded myself into thinking that. He's haunting _me_. Not the eleven-year-old girl with a crush."

At some point, she'd sat down on the floor, though she couldn't remember one. Harry slowly slid off the bed to sit in front of her on the carpet.

"I haven't told anyone," she said, voice going low. "I don't want Ron to worry – he's got enough going on, with the DA and everything… he'll be on the frontlines if anything happens to Tristan. And I intend to be there, too, so I can't have them treating me like I'm made of glass."

Harry adjusted his glasses, as if the word had reminded him of them. "Is that why you're telling me? Because I won't coddle you?"

"Like you could," she scoffed. "No, I'm telling you because you're a Slytherin, and there's no reason for us to interact in Hogwarts, outside of trash talk on the Quidditch pitch. So it won't be an issue."

"Very well thought-out," Harry said lightly. "And I assume I'm not going to tell Tristan because what happens here stays here?"

"Exactly." Ginny beamed at him. "Now it's your turn."

Harry tapped a finger to his chin in thought. "Let's see, what other secrets can I tell a Gryffindor…"

Ginny reached out to shove him in the arm. "Just tell me what animal you are, you prat."

"What do you think?" Harry asked with a grin.

"Is this a guessing game?" she asked. "I don't know… a snake. A slippery, slimy little snake – "

"Snakes aren't slimy, actually," Harry interrupted. "They're actually pretty soft. I can introduce you to my friend in Hogwarts, she loves being petted."

"We just agreed we wouldn't have any interaction in Hogwarts," Ginny pointed out absently. "Wait, you're friends with a snake?"

He shrugged. "Well, yeah, I can talk to them. They like hanging around the lake. And they make better company than most humans."

"Not that I'm surprised, but that's still kinda weird, Harry," she said, and he smirked at her. "Okay, if you're not a snake, then… a bear? An eagle… a hawk? Harry the hawk?"

"Please," he sighed. "You're terrible at this."

"Why don't you just show me?" Ginny suggested innocently.

"Fine," Harry said, and then she blinked and where he had been sitting was a beautiful black wolf with the brightest green eyes she'd ever seen. There was a patch of white fur in the shape of his lightning bolt scar on his forehead, and when she hesitantly lifted a hand to touch his back, his fur was soft as silk beneath her touch.

"Wow," she breathed, as Harry the wolf huffed at her. "Don't let this go to your head, but you're gorgeous. Better off like this than a human, actually."

Harry the wolf whined at her in protest, then shook his head until she removed her hand so he could re-transform back into a human.

"Does wolf-you have a name?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, but you don't get to know it," he said, raising an eyebrow at her. "Maybe after a few more secrets."

She sighed dramatically. "You're so stingy with these. Hey, is that why your Patronus is a wolf?"

"Not exactly," Harry smiled. "My Patronus isn't… technically a wolf. Although it's hard to tell the difference. But that's a secret for another time."

Ginny frowned. "Werewolf?" But Harry didn't seem inclined to amuse her guesses anymore, so she said, "All right, fine, my turn. I… want to be an Animagus."

Harry snorted. "That's not a secret. Everyone wants to be an Animagus."

She turned her best puppy dog look on him, the one that always made Bill and Charlie and her father melt. "Can you teach me?"

He hesitated. "I could, but I thought we agreed to no interaction at Hogwarts."

Ginny batted her lashes at him. "I'd make an exception for this."

"You could ask Tristan," he pointed out, undeterred.

"Has _he_ mastered the transformation?"

"He's close," Harry said with a shrug. "Or you can ask Hermione, I'm sure she'd be happy to help."

"Oh, so you just don't want to spend any time with me, I get it," Ginny said, pressing a hand to her chest in mock hurt.

"Lions and snakes don't get along, right?" he said, but there was a smile on his face. "I'll teach you. But not for free."

"You want money?" she asked, eyebrows shooting up. "You're richer than my entire family."

"Not money," he said dismissively. "Slytherins deal in favors, you should know that."

She bristled automatically. "What kind of favor?"

Harry looked at her for a long moment, and then said, "The DA."

Ginny blinked. "What about the DA?"

"You don't let Slytherins in," he said. "If you can convince your little Golden Trio to change that, I'll teach you the Animagus transformation."

Ginny stared. "Wha—you can't ask Tristan for this yourself?"

Harry shook his head. " _I_ can ask Tristan. I could even join the DA myself. He offered, when you guys first started. But things were so delicate with the other Slytherins and Umbridge's stupid Inquisitorial Squad, I couldn't risk it. Besides," he added with a smirk. "It's not like I needed it. I'm just as good as Tristan at Defense."

"Sure," Ginny agreed dryly. "But then why me?"

"I mean, I suppose any of you could do it. But your brother and Granger don't exactly have a favorable view of Slytherins. And…" He looked her up and down, making her shift under his gaze. "I think you have a good shot at convincing Tristan of anything. If I do it, it'll just be a favor to his brother, and none of the Slytherins will want to join because they'll think it's just a pity move."

"Right," she said slowly. "But if you _don't_ join, and Tristan convinces _other_ Slytherins to join _first_ , the rest of them might follow suit… damn, that's a good plan actually. Very Slytherin. But why do you think I can convince Tristan?"

"I'm sure you're very persuasive," Harry said lightly. "Also, he likes you."

Ginny choked. " _What_?"

* * *

 **Rosevale Manor**

Tristan stumbled out of the Floo, coughing on the green smoke. _Never liked that stupid thing… I swear, all fireplaces have it out for me._

Musings on his eternal rivalry with fireplaces were summarily stopped by the figure who entered the hallway to see who had come through the Floo. Astoria Greengrass – he'd been hoping for Daphne, but that was okay – looked quite different outside of her pretty ballgown from the party last night, with her golden curls tied up in a ponytail and wearing casual clothes. Tristan got to his feet properly and flashed her a smile.

"Morning," he said cheerfully.

Astoria looked suspicious, but managed a "Morning," in return. "What are you doing here?" she asked, closing the book she'd been reading and tucking it under her arm.

"Oh, I came to deliver some good news," Tristan said, totally casual. _At least I hope I sound casual, and not like I came here to snoop around… which I definitely did._ "They caught the Death Eaters from your sister's party."

Astoria's eyes widened. "They did? Who were they?"

Tristan held up his hands. "Classified information, I'm afraid. They won't even tell _me_ , and I'm the Boy Who Lived!" he exclaimed mournfully, as if people – at least, people of the Order – didn't constantly keep secrets from him.

"But I did catch a name," he added, wandering closer to Astoria. She still seemed only surprised, not caught or terrified. _Which I suppose is a good thing – means she's not involved. And I didn't think she was, since she's in the DA but… it never hurts to be safe, with these purebloods._ "A Death Eater named… Kyburn?"

Astoria looked at him for a moment, blue eyes deep in thought. "Kyburn is an old pureblood family," she told him. "Haven't heard of one of them being a Death Eater, though."

"First time for everything," Tristan said, shrugging. "But I – that is to say, _we_ couldn't help but notice… there was no Kyburn on the guest list."

Astoria crossed her arms. "What are you implying?" For a moment, she almost sounded as haughty as her older sister usually was. Tristan smiled at her, undeterred. He'd dealt with Slytherins worse than either of the Greengrasses before.

"Well, it's only a theory but… if there was no Kyburn invited to the party, then logic would suggest that… someone had to let the Death Eaters in, right?" Tristan prompted. Astoria nodded, but she didn't seem to be paying attention to him anymore.

 _Either she knows something… or she's just extremely lost in thought. With a Ravenclaw, either is possible._

"I just thought I'd come over and ask if you had any leads," he finished with a winning grin. "Like, on who could have had the motive to let the Death Eaters sneak in, or maybe invited them as a plus one without letting your mother know beforehand? Because they didn't break in by force."

"No," Astoria agreed. "They didn't." Her voice trailed off, until she blinked and refocused on him. "I don't have any idea. And Daphne is out on a date with Theo, so unless you want to talk to my parents…"

Tristan blanched. "No, uh, no, thanks. You are definitely the most pleasant person to talk to in this house."

She smiled at him. "That's not exactly a compliment, but thanks."

"Yeah," Tristan said, a little lamely, and returned her smile. _Daphne might know more… I'll have to ask Harry when he comes home, then._ "Any other news? On the Death Eater front, or, uh, anything else?"

"Nothing about the Death Eaters," said Astoria, although she was twisting the ring on her finger like a nervous habit. Tristan's eyes narrowed. _I might have picked up some things from Harry, but I think that means she's lying_. "Is it… is it true they were targeting DA members?"

Tristan blinked. "I – well, maybe. But I don't think it's anything you need to worry about," he said with his best comforting leader smile. "You're pureblood. And they seem more fixated on the six of us who were at the Department of Mysteries, anyway."

Astoria's eyes narrowed. "You think because I'm pureblood, I'm safe?"

"Well… aren't you?"

She sighed and sidestepped around him, clutching her book to her chest. "You think the Death Eaters will quietly let me go when I'm a member of _Dumbledore's Army_? When my sister is best friends with your brother?"

Tristan opened his mouth, but couldn't find anything to say, and closed it again with a sheepish smile. "Sorry… I guess I never really considered."

Astoria turned back to look at him, her ponytail twirling as she did. "You're a good leader, Tristan," she told him gently. "For Gryffindors."

Tristan watched her walk away, his good mood vanished into one of itching uncertainty. _Harry said the same thing…_

* * *

 **Spinner's End**

It was too early in the morning for guests, so when Severus opened the door and found Narcissa Malfoy standing on the other side, his already irritated mood soured even further.

 _Although, as visitors go, she's a far better sight than her husband – or, Merlin forbid, her sister._

"Can I help you?" he asked, raising a single, unimpressed brow at her.

Narcissa stood up straighter, mouth set in a tense line. Something was clearly bothering her. "Please, Severus, I need to talk to you. It's about Draco, and it's urgent."

"It must be, for you to interrupt my breakfast," Severus agreed sarcastically, but he held the door open for her anyway. _Malfoys do not often say 'please,' so I should at least figure out what it is she wants from me._

Narcissa walked into his house, stopped to make a disgusted face at how rundown it was, and then began pacing his sitting room.

"Don't wear a hole in the floorboards," Severus muttered, passing her by on his way to make coffee. Muggle drink it may be, but at least it woke him up.

"Severus, Draco has done something stupid," Narcissa blurted out, and when he turned to look at her, he noticed how incredibly _not_ put-together she looked. He had never seen Narcissa Malfoy without perfectly curled hair, perfectly painted lips, and perfectly selected wardrobe. And although all of that was technically intact, she looked harried, and worn, and tired, most of all.

 _And desperate._

 _Desperate Slytherins are never a good thing._

 _I should know._

"You'll have to clarify, your son has a habit of making exceedingly stupid mistakes," Severus told her dryly. "Starting from when he tried to duel Potter, twice, and failed, _both times_ – "

"He's agreed to work for the Dark Lord."

Severus stopped and turned around. "He's not taken the Mark."

"No," she confirmed, wringing her hands as she walked around his ratty old furniture. "Not the Mark. Not yet. And he's not working _directly_ for the Dark Lord, I know that much. But my sister – Bellatrix, she offered him a mission. Said it would help the Dark Lord, that he would reward Draco – and Lucius – greatly if he would do it. And he said yes."

Severus fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Narcissa, forgive me, but what was he _supposed_ to say? He's a boy, barely of age. His father is in prison. He's dealing with the Dark Lord. And there's no way Draco can escape _his_ attention, not when his entire family is ensconced in the Dark Lord's inner circle."

He didn't add, _Thanks to you and that sneering arsehole you call a husband_ , but he hoped it was implied in his tone.

Narcissa looked at him pleadingly. "I need you to help him."

"With his mission?" Severus asked dubiously. "I highly doubt he would even tell me what it is, let alone accept my help."

"You don't have to tell him. But – Severus, I can't have him join the Dark Lord." Narcissa's wringing had gotten worse, possibly from the near-treasonous thoughts she was sharing with him. "Not Draco. He's too young and… he'll end up just like his father."

Severus looked at her imperiously. "Is that not what you want?"

"No!" she said forcefully. "Lucius is in _prison_. Of course I don't want that for Draco. I want him to survive this war and then live in peace."

"In peace?" Severus stepped closer to her until he was towering over her. For wearing such high heels, she was still smaller than him. "Narcissa, there are only two outcomes to this war. Either the Dark Lord wins, in which case, only his Death Eaters will be allowed to live in peace, or he loses and dies. Which one are you hoping for?"

There was a moment of horrible silence as the two of them stared at each other, neither one willing to say what had to be said – until Narcissa decided to break it.

"Whichever one gets my son out of this alive," she said, lifting her head defiantly. "You're his teacher. And – and my friend. All I ask is that you watch over him, at Hogwarts. Make sure he doesn't do anything that might get him killed – or worse. It's a simple task."

"Perhaps, but Draco is not a simple boy," Severus mused. "What you're asking for is that I steer him away from the Dark Lord's influence, aren't you?"

Him giving voice to her wishes seemed to embolden her. "Yes. You know how he is – how he was raised. But I don't want that life for him. If there's anything you can do for him, Severus…"

He inclined his head. "I will look after Draco, as I look after all my Slytherins."

Narcissa's gray eyes pierced him. "Will you swear an Unbreakable Vow?"

"To what, exactly?"

"To protect him, if worse comes to worst. To save him from becoming a monster, in any way you can. To save his _soul_ , Severus. Will you do it?"

"My word isn't enough?" he asked softly, in a voice that would seem dangerous to any lesser woman. But Narcissa stood her ground.

"I will give you anything you want – money, magical artifacts from our vaults, any possession of Lucius' you might desire."

"A tempting bargain," he admitted. "I will swear it, on that condition and one other. You need to speak with him, as well. I can only do so much from the shadows. You're his mother – teach him right from wrong."

 _As you should have done years ago, and then perhaps we wouldn't be in this mess._

Narcissa nodded slowly. "I will. And we'll need someone to tie the Vow."

Severus sighed. "I know of a person who will be glad to help."

 _Too glad, in fact. But if there's anyone who can help me help Draco Malfoy, it's Dumbledore…_


	4. Griffin and Door

**Queenswood Manor**

Neville was on the edge of boredom – not quite there, but almost – watching Tristan and Ron do aimless loops in the air, halfheartedly tossing a Quaffle between themselves. Hermione had encased herself in the general study room, Luna had gone home to be with her father, and the other residents of the house were otherwise occupied.

Which left him, and his thoughts.

 _Not that I mind being left alone, but there's too much happening lately – too much and not enough._

He waited until the contradictory lines had sorted themselves out. _First, we're waiting for Harry and Ginny to come back. And second, we're waiting for the results of the Order investigation on who let the Death Eaters in. But there hasn't been another attack, which means it's safe for Harry and Ginny to come home, since they caught the actual Death Eaters._

 _Which is good. But that still means the person who let them into the party is out there. Could even be one of us – one of our year. I can certainly think of a few…_

 _Malfoy. Nott. Parkinson. And, going a year below: Warwick. Shellbrooke. Probably more that I don't know, we'll have to ask Ginny or Luna for a full list later, but…_

 _Purebloods. The bad kind, the ones who are all into pureblood supremacy and Dark magic. Either sympathizers or actual Death Eaters. And the Greengrasses would have let them without a second thought because…_

 _Because they're like them. Family and friends and friends of family._

 _And I know Daphne is friends with Tristan's brother – somehow, Merlin knows why – but that doesn't mean…_

"Penny for your thoughts?" asked the voice of a girl nearby, and Neville snapped out of his thoughts to focus on who had intruded on his company. It wasn't an unwelcome intrusion, as Elissa Potter adjusted her glasses and smiled at him in greeting.

"What's a penny?" he asked as she made herself comfortable on the bench he'd been sitting on alone. Her long red hair caught the sunlight and glittered with it; he watched as she brushed it back and started absentmindedly braiding it.

"Oh, muggle thing," Elissa said, waving a hand. "Mum says it all the time. Sorry, knut for your thoughts?"

Neville shook his head. "They're not that interesting."

"I bet they are." Elissa's hazel gaze moved from him up to the sky where Tristan and Ron were laughing at some joke. "It's about the party, isn't it? How you six were targeted? I'd be thinking about it too, if I were in your place."

He looked at her oddly. "You are in our place. You're the sister of the Boy Who Lived."

Elissa's eyes flashed with annoyance. _Damn_ , he thought with a mental wince. _Walked into a trap._ "Then why won't you let me in your super secret DA meetings?"

"Lissa," Neville said with a sigh. "You know that's not my decision to make."

"No, you all made it together," she pointed out, finishing her braid off with a rather aggressive knot. "When you left me and went to the Department of Mysteries by yourself, just the six of you."

"I'm sorry, but you were – " Neville cut himself off before he could say something he would regret.

"Too what? Too young?" Elissa asked with all the fury of a Gryffindor girl scorned. "Ginny and Luna are younger than you."

"But they're older than you," Neville pointed out. "And it was an emergency and you weren't there and…" He trailed off, because she was looking at him quite balefully. "And you've heard this all before. Do you want me to apologize?"

"No," she muttered, looking back up at her brother and his best friend flying in loops now. "Because it wasn't you."

"Tristan's just trying to look out for you," Neville said gently, but Elissa snorted, cutting him off.

"Yes, I know, but he's also too caught up in everything else. Ron and Hermione and you and Ginny and Luna. You guys are such a…" She cast around for a suitable word and decided upon, " _Clique_."

"Clique?" Neville repeated in amazement. "We don't – we're not – we have friends outside of each other, you know."

"You're just as bad as Harry," she accused. "You make two friends and think that's all you need."

"Yes, well," Neville began a half-formulated argument, but was stopped by rustling near the tree grove just to the left of them. "What was that?"

Elissa looked over his shoulder and noticed it, too. "Can't be anything harmful, we have the best wards in the country on this house. Come on, let's check it out."

A little reluctantly, Neville stood and followed Elissa out into the grove, which seemed somehow secluded from the rest of the backyard. The trees were tall and thin, but many, and they swayed in a circle around them, closing them off from the sounds beyond. Bushes and flowers sprouted along the edges of a small pool of water, enchanted to always be bubbly and fresh for a swim.

"It's coming from here," Elissa said, mostly to herself, and kneeled down next to a rosebush, peering through its leaves. "As if something, or someone was stuck in here…"

The rustling had now turned to a low, keening sound, which Neville recognized instantly as an animal in distress.

 _But which animal?_ He got down on his knees and drew his wand to help parse through the considerable foliage of the rosebush. _The owls will be inside their cages, we mostly use Patronus messengers to communicate lately, less chance of interception… Elissa has a cat but she was inside just an hour ago, I saw her, and Elissa would know if this was her Ashtail. It doesn't sound like a cat, either, at least not a small one like Ash is…_

The answer was something with quite a lot of golden fur, not at all a match for Harry's snowy owl, or Tristan's red barn owl, or Elissa's gray cat. And it was rather larger than all three of those, too, although once Neville got a hand in its fur, it felt distinctly catlike under his touch. It was still keening, although the noise was getting less distressed the further they extricated it from the rosebush.

"Is it a… very large cat?" Elissa asked in confusion, as Neville aimed his wand at the center of the rosebush and tried to remember the spell for freeing something of its chains. "But whose could it be?"

" _Relashio_!" Neville remembered, and the rosebush freed the creature of its tangle of thorns. Out stumbled an animal about the size of a large cat, or maybe a tiny lion – it certainly looked like a lion in miniature, at least in body, if not in its rather eagle-like face.

 _And I don't think lions have wings – or talons._

"A griffin," Elissa breathed, staring in awe as the creature keened again and then purred, stretching its limbs out now that it had full mobility. "Oh, my gosh, a real, actual griffin, and it's in our _house_ , oh, how did it get here?"

"I don't know," Neville said, keeping his wand trained on the griffin just in case – a cub, it had to be, adult griffins grew to the size of real lions and often bigger – but it didn't seem interested in harming the two of them, only sniffing them out. "Is the house warded against magical creatures?"

Elissa bobbed her head in a nod. "Dark creatures, yeah. Moony did the spells for that one, and he knows Dark creatures better than anybody, although, of course, he had to leave a hole in for creatures that didn't mean them any harm, like himself, because…"

"Then this must also be a creature that means no harm to your family," Neville surmised. "Although griffins aren't Dark creatures at any rate. I think he likes you."

Elissa beamed as the griffin bumped its head gently in her arm, having gotten her smell and seeming to appreciate it. "Oh, I love it, and Ash will be so happy to have a playmate – although, I hope he doesn't try to bully her – say, is it a he? Or a she?"

Neville made a face. "I don't know how to check." _And if I do, I'm sure I don't want to._ "We should bring this to your parents. How can a griffin just wander in? Where was it?"

"Who cares?" Elissa said happily, reaching out to tentatively scratch the griffin cub behind its ear. "Mum and Dad are still out, on Order business, or maybe fetching Harry and Ginny, wherever they are… they should be home for dinner, though."

"Then what do we until then?" Neville offered a hand to the griffin, who sniffed it again and then flopped onto its back, allowing him to stroke down the side of its body. "We could bring it inside, give it a bath, but he might make a mess…"

"What about here?" Elissa motioned to the pool just behind him. "We'll see if he – or she – likes it or not, and then we'll go from there."

Neville smiled at her. "Has anyone ever told you that you're too practical to be a Gryffindor?"

Elissa stuck her tongue out at him, which rather negated his comment, before she set to work trying to coax the little griffin into the pool.

* * *

 **Grimmauld Place**

The fireplace flashed green, and two bodies stumbled out of it, one rather more gracefully than other. Lily watched, her breath bated, as the flames receded and the one of the two who had almost fallen steadied himself and stood up properly.

"Damn Floos," grumbled Harry, brushing himself off. "Never liked the stupid things…"

 _My sons are more alike than they care to admit._

"Language, Harry," Lily chided, before striding forward and sweeping him up in a hug. He indulged her rather willingly, and she thought he might not have minded that she held on an extra moment longer than usual.

 _He's not much for physical affection, Harry is, but he's been away for two days, so I think I've earned the right…_

"I come back from hiding and the first thing she does is scold me," he said over her shoulder to his companion, who giggled. "How is that fair?"

Before Ginny Weasley could reply though, her own parents had come in from the other room and encased her in a flurry of hugs and questions.

Lily pulled back as James stepped through the archway, letting Harry go to him. She turned to say something to Ginny, making sure they had been all right, when her attention was caught by the portrait grumbling in the drawing room.

"…blasted blood traitors and that mudblood, sullying my home, making it unfit for Blacks, using it to plot against the Dark—"

"That's quite enough out of you," Lily said firmly, and drew the curtains back around Walburga Black's portrait from where they'd been displaced. Her mutterings turned shrill, but the sound remained happily muffled.

"Dunno how Padfoot lived with her all those years," James said with a roll of his eyes. "I've half a mind to eviscerate that painting myself, if I didn't know that magical portraits can't just be broken…"

Harry jumped in before Lily could reply, his face suddenly brightening with hope. "Speaking of Padfoot…"

Lily shared a look with James, then said, as gently as she could, "He's still in the guest room at our place, Harry. But he's… he's getting better."

In truth, she didn't know if 'better' was the word she would use to describe Sirius's condition, but Harry's face spiraled through a complex mixture of emotions before landing on 'resigned', which was at least better than 'upset'.

"Can I go see him?" Harry asked, looking around the room. It was just the Potters and the Weasleys here – Molly and Arthur had been joined by Bill and Fleur, who was not yet a Weasley but soon would be, and all of them were fussing over Ginny. Inside the dining room, more members of the Order sat, but Harry didn't seem keen on greeting them.

 _Not that most of them would be keen on seeing him, either, no matter all the trouble we went through to make sure he returned safely. My son or not, he is still only a Slytherin in their eyes…_

Lily refocused on her son and smiled at him. "Of course, dear. We wouldn't stop you. But don't you want dinner first? You must be hungry."

"Oh, Harry cooked for us at the safe house," Ginny piped up, extricating herself from Bill's arms. "We were having an early dinner when the Patronus came, actually. So I think we're full."

Molly looked disappointed that she would not get to cram both children full of her home cooking, but Harry shot Ginny a grateful look, then spun on his heel and headed back towards the Floo.

Lily watched him go, just as soon as he'd come, with a small sigh, then turned back to Ginny. "He cooked, did he? And he didn't burn anything?"

Ginny grinned. "Well, once, almost, when he was making me soup and spilled some on himself, but other than that, no, the house is still standing."

"I see he did not inherit cooking skills from either of us," James said with a raised eyebrow at Lily, who smiled. "Well, you should at least join us for dinner, Ginny, I'm sure you've missed your mum's cooking…"

"She made loads just now for you," Bill told his little sister, slinging an arm around her. "All to celebrate the safe return of our little princess."

Ginny pushed his arm off and poked her wand into his side. "Call me that again and I'll have _you_ dangling from a tower."

A chorus of laughs greeted her statement as the group walked back into the unofficial Order meeting, and Lily laughed, too, although she could not stop the niggling worry in the back of her mind.

 _Our son is back, safe and sound, and so is Ginny, and everyone else at the party is safe, except for the two who died, and we've caught the Death Eaters… so what could possibly still be concerning me?_

 _Aside from the looming war?_ asked a snarky voice that sometimes sounded a bit like Severus Snape in her mind.

 _Yes, aside from that. I suppose it's the fact that there's still a spy we haven't found, and it could be a student which means our kids won't be safe at Hogwarts – not that they ever truly were, not Tristan and Harry – and then there's the matter of Sirius._

But what her son would find back in Queenswood Manor, he would deal with on his own. Harry Potter rarely asked for help, not unless he truly needed it, and in emotional matters, all the less so.

 _Perhaps that is why I'm so worried_ , Lily thought as she took her seat at the table next to James, who caught her hand and squeezed it. _A mother never stops worrying about her children, after all, not even when they're almost fully grown…_

* * *

 **Rook House**

Luna looked curiously at the boy standing outside her doorstep, who had his arms folded around himself either in an attempt to keep warm – although it was not very chilly out – or out of antisocial habit. He was tall and blonde, fair-skinned and gray-eyed, wearing a dark green coat over his clothes, and easily recognizable to most anyone in her age group at Hogwarts.

"Hello, Draco," she said, carefully blocking the entrance to her home. He didn't look much inclined to shove past her, for which she was grateful. "Did you want something?"

He looked surly for a moment, but then cleared the emotion off his face. "I wanted… to thank you."

Luna blinked at him. "Thank me? For what?"

"For…" Draco exhaled, as if speaking these words was an enormously difficult task. "For what you did… at the party. Daphne's birthday party."

 _As if I wouldn't know which party… no, I mustn't be mean, it's obviously taking him a lot of effort to do this._

Luna tilted her head at him. "I don't recall what I did to earn a thank you, and in person, at that."

Draco looked faintly flushed. "My mother said… well, there was a Killing Curse and it was aimed for Potter but badly and I… I was there, and I would have been struck by it. And you – I know it was you, because you were the only one near enough who had your wand out – cast a spell that shoved the Death Eater aside and saved my life."

She did remember that part. But then, there had been a lot of things happening – she'd also dodged several hexes and been pushed into Anthony Goldstein at one point, and they'd finally portkeyed out, at which point Draco Malfoy was the furthest thing from her mind…

 _But he's here, so think about it. I did save his life, even if I wasn't specifically thinking of_ him _when I did it. And even if he had to be persuaded by his mother to come here…_

"I would've done it for anyone," Luna told him solemnly. "Even the person who let the Death Eaters in the party in the first place."

Draco flinched. "Yes, well," he said, voice tense all of a sudden. "I… appreciate it. I owe you a debt. Malfoys always pay their debts."

 _Even life debts?_

"Do they?" Luna smiled, which only seemed to make him more uncomfortable. "Would you like to come in, then? Daddy was just making tea and I'm sure he wouldn't mind extra company."

Draco hesitated for a long moment.

"Besides," Luna added, eyeing him critically. "You look cold."

"I'm not cold!" he snapped, and while it was true that the weather wasn't cold, Luna rather thought he tended towards being coldblooded, anyway.

"Maybe, but you have quite an infestation of Swirling Gumbottoms just there – " She pointed at his chest, where his arms were still crossed. "And they tend to make the person they're crowding very cold for no reason…"

Draco almost rolled his eyes, but, to his credit, managed to restrain himself. "Fine, I'll… have tea. I won't stay long."

"I didn't ask you to," she said, opening the door wider to let him in. Draco caught the polite rebuff in her statement and scowled at her, but stepped through anyway. His boots clicked oddly on the floor.

"Ah, who was at the—Mister Malfoy?" Her father asked, stepping around the corner to see what was taking her so long. His eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Draco, who had reverted to his default expression of a sneer upon being faced with Xenophilius Lovegood.

"Draco's staying for tea, Daddy," Luna told him, slipping around Draco. "He came over to thank me for saving his life at the party."

Draco's scowl deepened, if possible. It clearly wasn't news he wanted getting out – Draco Malfoy, apologizing to someone, let alone someone like Loony Luna Lovegood…

 _No, it wouldn't be very good for his reputation. And Slytherins care ever so much about their reputation…_

"Did he?" Xenophilius smiled at the both of them. "How nice of him. And how kind of you, Luna, to save your friend. I almost would think you'd been Sorted into Gryffindor!"

"I'm not," Draco began hotly, then paused, glancing at Luna. "I mean, we're not… not really friends. That's – that's why I appreciated it so much."

"Is it, now?" Xenophilius said distractedly, gesturing them both into the sitting room. "Well, good on both of you, anyway. Always important to thank someone for saving your life, or they might not do it again next time, you know…"

It was, Luna thought proudly, a mild rebuke that nonetheless seemed to have struck Draco. He glanced from her to her father, who was now pouring tea from the kettle into three cups, and colored slightly.

 _Good_ , she thought, slipping one hand into her pocket to find the galleon that lay there. _Him being embarrassed means he's less likely to try anything funny while he's here – even though he should know by now that if he did, I have friends I can call._

 _I suppose that's one of the benefits to having friends at all._

 _I wonder if his other friends would have saved him…_

* * *

 **Queenswood Manor**

Sirius Black lay comatose on a bed in a spare room of the Potter family manor. The room around him was warm and bright, decorated in Gryffindor colors, just as he would have liked them, had he been conscious to appreciate them. His hair was growing long, just past his shoulders, and the color of his skin had faded to a deathly pallor, although his breathing remained as steady as always.

Harry sat down at his godfather's bedside and took one of his cold hands in his.

"Please, Padfoot," he breathed, curling his fingers around Sirius' hand. "Please, you gotta wake up. It's my fault you're like this and you have to wake up, you have to… please…"

 _It's not your fault_ , protested the reasonable voice in his head. _You had no idea what would happen, you only warned him about the trouble, the Death Eaters…_

 _But I shouldn't have_ , he argued back, in a voice that reminded him of Tristan at his most stubborn Gryffindor. _I put myself at risk, and I interrupted him while he was in an enemy zone – maybe not all enemies, but with purebloods, and more supremacists than not – and they could have hurt him, and that's even before he reached the others…_

 _He's always going to be in danger_ , the reasonable voice said. _He's a Marauder, and a Gryffindor, and in the Order, and your godfather. All of those things make him unsafe. You didn't send him to his death._

 _I should have known, though, that Voldemort himself would be there. I could feel it – and Tristan was already there, which meant the rest of the Order would've showed up eventually, so all I did was rush Sirius into what could have been the biggest mistake of his life—_

 _He chooses to fight_ , and now the voice sounded a lot like the slippery, soothing tones of his favorite Hogwarts snake, a white-and-green garden snake named Silossa who often whispered him advice when he was having a fight with his brother or one of his Housemates. _He chooses to fight those who would harm you, or your brother and sister. He knew the risks._

"Please," Harry whispered again, bowing his head over Sirius' body. "Please, I just want him back. Let him go," he pleaded, this with the curse that kept hold over his godfather, though it could not reply to him. "I want him _back_!"

And he thought, clutching Sirius' hand, of his godfather's laugh and the ever-warm fur of his Animagus form, and the times he had taken Harry out on his back as Padfoot and let him traipse through the forest of Hogwarts, and when he and Remus had taught him and his brother to cast a Patronus and cheered when his form had finally taken shape –

Red light pulsed from his hand to Sirius' fingers, right at the point of contact, and shot upwards into his arm.

Not very far in the distance, a griffin roared.


	5. Letters and Legacies

**notes:** five chapters in, i would like to thank everyone who leaves good reviews, ask questions, and offers feedback; i really appreciate reading all of your reviews!

to my one homophobic reviewer who asked why gay kids should be at hogwarts since it's wizarding britain and not "brainwashed california", i can only say that i happen to be from "brainwashed california". so, if you're homophobic, i suggest you stop reading now. and if you think dumbledore is a pedophile because he's gay, i recommend you not only stop reading, but in fact, just never read any of my stories again or think about me at all because i want nothing to do with you, thanks.

as a general warning, i will report any homophobic reviews i get (and have done so), so don't bother. and again, if you're looking for character-bashing fics, this is not the story for you.

* * *

 **Malfoy Manor**

Narcissa dipped her quill in ink and let it hover over the inkwell for a moment, staring at her half-written letter and debating what to add. While she was fairly sure _her_ mail wasn't getting intercepted, since nobody would think to, it never hurt to be careful.

 _I have spoken with Draco, as you suggested_ , she wrote, then paused to internally scoff at the phrasing. Severus had not so much 'suggested' as 'ordered' and while she didn't ordinarily accept other people's parenting advice, he had been right. And she owed it to him, for swearing the Vow.

Letter briefly forgotten, her mind wandered back to that afternoon she and Severus had Flooed them over to Hogwarts and asked the Headmaster to tie their Vow. She could have – and perhaps should have – brought someone herself to help them, but what were her options? Who among the Death Eaters would understand what she was asking Severus to do?

 _Certainly not my sister_ , she thought with a deep sigh. _Not Bellatrix at any rate. Maybe… maybe Andromeda, but I have not been in touch with her for many years. All other Death Eaters are fanatically loyal, or if they're not, they hide it well. It is only the children who have their doubts._

 _The children… and me. And I have long since been suspicious of Severus' motivations, but I can't judge him when I feel much the same way, that the Dark Lord is a monster who would steal my son from me, that he cannot be allowed to rise in power any longer…_

 _Though I rather suspect Severus' motivations are much different. Stemming not from a love of one's child but the love of another…_

 _But that is none of my concern, only that he stays true to his word, regardless of his reasons for taking the Vow._

Narcissa set her quill to parchment once again and began writing. She told him, in careful words, how she encouraged Draco to get out of their family library – where, she was sure, he was reading texts on Dark magic – and how she hoped Severus would not indulge him passes to the Hogwarts library's restricted section. How she suggested – more like demanded – that he go and thank the girl who had saved his life at the party, in the hopes that he would learn not to take his life for granted, that one little Ravenclaw could have let him die.

 _And, perhaps, he might even make connections outside of his House. Now that he's free of Pansy Parkinson's simpering company… and that_ is _how Andromeda rescued herself from the grasps of our family and its Dark roots, the friendship of a muggleborn Hufflepuff boy who saved her from the war, from a husband who bears the Dark Mark, and from a life doomed to watching her children's lives cradled in the hands of a monster…_

 _A life much like the one I now find myself trapped in._

 _But Andromeda survived. And so must I, and so must Draco._

Narcissa wondered, absently, why that Ravenclaw girl – Luna Lovegood, daughter of two purebloods who had never amounted to very much – had bothered to save her son. She'd watched it happen – screamed as the Killing Curse built in the wand aimed towards Draco instead of its intended target, gotten her wand out to do something, anything, and then seen Luna shoot a blue spell at the masked Death Eater which shoved him to the side, threw his curse off-mark, and the only thing that died from it was a portion of the wall just to the side of Draco.

 _He owes her a life debt. I did not raise a coward who would ignore such a thing. And I owe her as well, owe her my son…_

 _Not that I think she would want him. But it's humbling all the same, to have the fate of your only child placed in the hands of a sixteen-year-old girl who should, by all rights, hate him._

Narcissa finished off the letter and sealed it in an envelope before handing it to her tawny owl with a soft stroke of her feathers. Amaranthea hooted before taking flight, out the window of her room and towards Spinner's End.

 _I suppose hate means different things to different people. For those like us, it means someone is deserving of torture and murder. For those like them… it means nothing in the grand scheme of things, for they believe such a person they hate might still be worthy of saving._

 _I believe Draco is worthy of saving. I only hope Severus, and Dumbledore, and even that Lovegood girl and her friends do not believe otherwise._

* * *

 **Rosevale Manor**

Blaise tilted his head back over the armrest of the couch he was sprawled on, looking up at the enchanted ceiling of the Greengrasses' study room, which was designed to swirl with vines in various revolving geometric patterns, and promptly went cross-eyed and groaned.

Astoria shot him an annoyed look over the top of her sketchbook. "If you won't take this seriously, I'm not going to draw you."

"No, sorry," Blaise said quickly, straightening his head back up and flashing her his most innocent smile. "Just went dizzy for a minute there. I do want you to draw me, I swear."

She huffed and went back to her sketchbook. "My rate's gone up to four galleons."

"Wha—" Blaise cut himself off with a sigh. "Well, all right, but you better make me look debonair."

"Mm-hmm." Her tone of voice implied there was very little she could do to make him _debonair._ Blaise spared a second to look offended in her general direction.

Aware he was probably shooting himself in the foot with this, he added, a note of teasing in his voice, "Like you did for Draco back in fifth year – and _he_ didn't even have to pay you…"

Astoria snapped her head up and narrowed her eyes at him. "Get out of my room, Zabini."

"This isn't your room!" he protested, although he knew better – Daphne certainly never used the study, and it had become Astoria's unofficial art room. "No, come on, Astoria, I'm sorry, don't make me go back to _them_."

 _Them_ in this case was Daphne and Theo who were either still making eyes at each other in the living room or, more likely, already snogging each other's brains out, since he'd gone ahead and left them alone.

 _I swear, it is impossible to hang out with those two without Harry around – he can make Theo wither like nobody else, wish I had that skill…_

Astoria looked at him with an expression of such disdain, he could almost mistake her for Daphne, who made that expression on a daily basis. Tartly, she said, "Why? Still can't stand seeing Theo with someone else?"

Blaise stared at her.

She continued, the edge in her voice rising, "I still don't know what you see in him, honestly. Bad enough my own sister thinks he's good-looking. Do Slytherins just not have any taste?"

Blaise got to his feet, hands shaking. "How did you…"

Astoria scoffed. "Please. You Slytherins think you're so sneaky and subtle but none of you are. Like I couldn't notice you over here every summer, mooning over him – and sulking around for months when he asked Daphne to the Yule Ball."

She had just the right amount of derision in her tone to spark anger in him to override the horrifying humiliation.

"Oh, like you noticed anything while you were going all googly-eyed over Draco!" he snapped.

"I," Astoria said dangerously, rising to her feet, "at least, got over him."

"Did you?" Blaise sneered. "Did you really, because just the other week, Daphne was telling me how Mrs. Malfoy was over here, asking about betrothal plans for you two with your mother, and you know, since Daphne is taken…"

Astoria's eyes widened, but she remained steady. "Well, I heard no such thing and have nothing to do with what my mother does in her spare time, and, anyway, we were talking about _you_ and your crush on—"

"Shut up!" Blaise yelled, and his voice was loud enough that she did startle quiet; unfortunately it was also loud enough to catch more attention. The door to the study opened and Daphne peered in, her eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Is everything all right?" Daphne asked. Theo, Blaise noticed with some degree of relief, had apparently elected not to follow her. "You two weren't fighting, were you?"

"Not at all," Blaise said smoothly, darting a glance at Astoria to see if she would go with his lie. Her face seemed set in stone, but she didn't say anything to the contrary. "Actually, I was just about to leave. Mother will be expecting me home for dinner."

"Oh." Daphne blinked at him. "Well, okay. You're coming to Harry's birthday party, right?"

"Right," Blaise said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. _What would Harry even do if I didn't come to his birthday party? Merlin knows he would never hang around with you if you invited Theo along, and of course you will._ "Night, Daphne. Astoria."

He nodded at Daphne and moved to cross the room and leave, when he was stopped by a little blue paper bird fluttering past him at an alarming rate.

"What on Earth?" Daphne wondered as the bird did a loop over her head and then shot itself at Astoria, who caught it in her hands. "Astoria, what's that?"

"None of your business," Astoria muttered, unfolding the bird. Blaise continued staring at her, as did Daphne, and under the combined weight of their gazes, she looked up with an eyeroll and said, "Oh, it's just a note-bird, it's how we communicate in Ravenclaw."

"Who's it from?" Blaise asked, unable to help his curiosity.

Astoria sent him a nasty look, but answered, "It's from Luna."

"Luna Lovegood?" Daphne asked. Blaise had to give her credit for refraining from calling her _Loony Lovegood_. It had taken Harry quite a bit of time to train Daphne out of that nickname when he'd befriended the Ravenclaw.

"Is there another Luna?" Astoria snapped. "Yes, Luna Lovegood, my best friend, if you cared to notice anything about my life."

Daphne traded a look with Blaise, who was still hovering near the door, seeming nonplussed. "I knew you were friends, I wasn't trying to be rude, Astoria…"

"You never are," Astoria sighed, and, having finished reading the note, looked up with a frown. "Forget it. Do either of you know of any reason why Draco Malfoy would be at her house?"

Blaise blinked. "What?"

"Draco Malfoy?" Daphne repeated. "He's at Luna's _house_?"

"Yeah, that's what she says," Astoria said, turning the note over and placing it on the table to write on the back of it. "Is there something he would want there?"

"Can't think of anything," Daphne said, sending Blaise a bemused look. "Not that we're exactly in Draco's confidences."

 _Not that anyone is, I think, not since his father got thrown in Azkaban…_

Astoria finished her note, folded it back into a bird, and tapped her wand to it. Blaise watched in fascination as she murmured a spell, the bird spiraled into the air, and disappeared out the door again, presumably going back to Luna.

"Daphne," Astoria said while both of them were distracted with the bird, her voice going serious again. "Do you think – there's any possibility that Draco had something to do with the attack on your birthday?"

Daphne's face darkened. "Maybe," she admitted. "But if he did, I'm going to kill him."

Blaise had a feeling she wouldn't be the first in line, either. _Would he really, though? His father's in prison, his mother was_ at _the party, and he almost got killed during it, I saw, and Luna saved him… Maybe that's why he's over there._

 _Although I wouldn't put it past him either. He was on edge all through the party, he only danced a few times, and… he does have the Death Eater ties._

 _But then so does Theo, and nobody suspects him – well, none of_ us _, I'm sure the Gryffindors have their ideas._

Astoria chewed her bottom lip. "He could have let them in. But anyone could have. I suppose it isn't fair to… Hello, Theo."

Blaise whirled. Theodore Nott stood behind him, looking curiously at the three of them in the study. His hair was still mussed, no doubt from what he and Daphne had been doing before they'd been interrupted by Blaise and Astoria's fight.

"Hello," Theo drawled, and shot Daphne a significant glance. Blaise buried the spark of jealousy deep inside. "I just came to see where Daphne disappeared to. Is everything all right?"

"Astoria was just asking—" Daphne began, but Astoria cut her off.

"What's for dinner," Astoria interrupted easily. Daphne let the lie slide, but she didn't look happy about it. "I think Flipsy said something about steak and potatoes. Will you be joining us, Theo?"

"Of course," said Theo, flashing her a smile. "Blaise, are you staying?"

Blaise turned away. "No, I'm heading home."

Before Theo could say anything else, he walked out of the study and down the hallway, heart thumping traitorously. He could only hope that Astoria had been too distracted by Draco and Luna to say anything about their fight – especially to Theo's face.

 _And speaking of Draco, I should go see if Harry's back yet. He might have some insights on the attack. And on what we're going to be doing for his birthday because if I have to spend an entire evening around Gryffindors and Daphne and Theo I might combust…_

* * *

 **Rook House**

Draco hadn't meant to stay for dinner, but he'd somehow, against all odds, found himself enjoying the company of Loony Luna Lovegood and her equally-loony father. And Xenophilius Lovegood was not a bad cook, and his treacle tart was better than even the Malfoy family house elves' desserts, not to mention he had quite a collection of books – some, even, about Dark Arts, that Draco recognized from his own library at home.

All that to say, he had ended up being given a tour of their rook-shaped house, which was exactly as kooky and crammed with oddities as one would expect of the Lovegoods, and now was pretending not to look around too much in Luna's bedroom.

"You seem reluctant to go home," Luna noted, her presence on her bed the only thing that stopped him from stepping fully into her room.

Draco frowned at her words. "I'm not. I just…" _My home is a big old empty manor and it's just me and Mother and no one else and there's nothing to do… I could go hang out with Pansy or Crabbe and Goyle but they're boring and…_

 _And I'm making excuses, whining like a child. So what if I'm lonely? Surely I don't need to stoop so low as to seek out Loony Luna for company._

Yet, he stayed, lingering at her door. Luna looked at him without judgment in her blue-gray eyes, although she had every right to judge him, of course. He knew very well which sides of the line they both resided on, and she had clearly chosen the opposite when she'd joined Dumbledore's Army.

 _But she saved me. I suppose not all lines are drawn in stone._

"It's all right," she said softly. "I'm an only child, too. I know it gets lonely. And houses that have been empty of children for too long often get infested with Red-Nosed Humdingers, you know."

Draco, who did not know, nodded. "Yeah, but at least you don't live in a huge manor. I suppose it's all well and good if you have more than one child, but what am I supposed to do with all that space?"

He glanced around the hallway, which was full of paintings and maps all related to odd and probably-impossible creatures, and then at Luna's room, which was bursting with color and more drawings of the creatures she so loved.

"Your house is… nice," he admitted. "It feels like a home."

 _Much more than mine does, all those winding hallways and cold drafty rooms. And those imperious portraits that always seem to be judging me, like Great-Grandfather Caius, I swear that man has it out for me…_

Luna got to her feet and smiled. "It does, doesn't it? Daddy always tried very hard to make sure I was happy here, especially after Mum died… it's so easy to get lost in grief after losing a parent. But I had Daddy, so it was okay."

She beckoned him closer into the room and he followed, stooping a little to fit under the doorway – he'd had a growth spurt recently, and shot up to a full head taller than Luna – to see what she wanted to show him.

It was a section of the wall above her overflowing desk, a painted-on tree with branches and leaves twisting downwards, and every branch had a name written in silvery-blue ink. Draco tried to follow it up and up, but it faded into the soft blue of the ceiling of her bedroom.

"We have a family tree too," Luna told him, pointing at her name, at the very bottom of the tree, dangling in between a branch labeled _Xenophilius Lovegood_ and one labeled _Pandora Opalwing_. "Just like yours, and just as old." Her finger trailed up and up, past generations of Lovegoods and various other pureblood families that had married in or married out.

"Yes, the Lovegoods are an old pureblood House," Draco said in mild bemusement. "I know that."

Luna looked at him with a certain hint of sadness to her gaze. Draco felt immediately defensive; it looked like pity and he neither wanted nor appreciated it.

But all she said was, "All those names, and it still doesn't get less lonely, does it? What use is our ancient family tree if none of them can comfort you when you've lost a parent?"

Draco bristled. "My father is still alive," he told her curtly.

"Maybe," Luna admitted. "But you were very close to losing him. And…" Her gaze traveled down his arm to his left forearm. "You are very close to doing something desperate not to lose him again, aren't you?"

Her voice was quiet, but certain. Draco flinched away from her, suddenly too close to be comfortable around this wide-eyed Ravenclaw with her sharp but not unkind words. _How does she know—but does it matter? Everyone knows. She's just the only one brave enough to say it to my face._

"I haven't done anything," he snapped at her.

"That's what I said," Luna agreed, blinking owlishly at him.

Draco floundered for a moment, then said, "I didn't come here to take advice from you," managing to inject some of his trademark sneer into the sentence, despite how shaken he was.

"Okay," Luna said, and moved away. For a split second, Draco regretted it, but she turned back to him not a moment later with a quill. "May I see your arm?"

"Why?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. "You want proof I don't have the Dark Mark?"

"Of course not," Luna said easily. "You never would have stepped foot into my house if you had the Dark Mark."

From the way she said it, he wasn't sure if she meant the wards would have blocked him entry, or she herself would have kept him out.

Reluctantly, he rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, his coat lying somewhere in her living room as he had removed it earlier. Luna gently pressed the quill to his bare, unmarked skin, and Draco hissed through his teeth, although it didn't hurt. But the pressure of the point didn't leave, and when he looked down, she was tracing spirals in blue ink over his arm.

"Is this something to do with your Snorkacks?" he asked, a bit snidely.

Luna smiled and swirled the quill over the inside of his elbow, making him squirm just a little. "Don't be silly. _This_ is to free you of all those Humdingers, so you won't be so lonely."

Draco couldn't resist asking, "I thought Humdingers only infested houses."

"Oh, no, that's a common misunderstanding. They _prefer_ to infest houses that don't have children in them, for children bring joy and light and laughter to a place. But if a person hasn't had any of those things in a long time, they can infest a human, too."

"Right," he said skeptically. _Well, I did ask, so that one's on me._ "What is it you're drawing to keep them out, then?"

"Runes," Luna said simply. Draco did a double-take and only then noticed that within the spirals and swirls, there were indeed runes taking shape, specific lines and circles that he had learned in class. "For joy and light and laughter. And friendship, because that's where those come from."

Draco scoffed. "I don't need – I mean, I already have… friends…" His words trailed off when he noticed something over Luna's shoulder, high up on her ceiling that he hadn't spotted yet. A circle of seven portraits was painted above her bed, each linked with a golden thread. All of the portraits contained the face of someone he recognized: Tristan Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Ginny Weasley, Astoria Greengrass, and Harry Potter.

 _And… I don't think that's thread connecting them, it looks like words – or one word, repeating…_

Friends. She had painted her friends. Her art was beautiful, too, each of their likenesses perfectly crafted to resemble the person. Draco felt a stab of longing, that someone might do the same for him… _Pansy would never, she hates art, even if we hadn't broken up she wouldn't do something like this. Crabbe and Goyle wouldn't know how to paint or do anything creative if their lives depended on it. And everyone else…_

 _There is no everyone else. Daphne and Blaise don't like me, because they like Potter. Theo chose Daphne. Tracey and Millicent have never cared one way or the other. Everyone else at Hogwarts hates me._

 _Even Loony Luna Lovegood has more friends than I do._

The thought was humbling in a way that made him want to curl up in a ball. _Malfoys don't need friends, Father would say, we only need people to respect and fear us, but is it too much to ask…for both…_

"There," Luna said, pulling her quill back. "All done."

Draco shook himself of his thoughts and glanced down at what she'd drawn on his arm: a cacophony of blue swirls and spirals, some depicting constellations in the shape of stars, and yet others intertwining lines into the shape of a tree, and at the base of his wrist, waves overlapping each other. Within each line and circle, there were runes casually embedded – he had no idea if they would work, without magic, but some runes were simply good luck charms, and he could recognize the ones for friendship, for laughter, and, in a constellation the looked quite a bit like the one he was named for, the rune for starlight.

"You…" Draco stared at first his arm, then at her. "You did – you made those, too?" he asked, jerking his head towards the paintings above her bed. She nodded. "They're amazing," he murmured, looking back down at the blue ink on his arm. "So are these."

Luna beamed at him. "Thank you. And now you're safe against Humdingers." She carefully drew the sleeve of his shirt back down to cover her drawings. Draco felt instantly disappointed at not being able to see them.

"Right," he said slowly. "So… what do the paintings on your ceiling protect you from?"

Luna glanced up at them as he did. "Everything, I suppose," she said softly. "That's what friends do, right? They protect you from anyone or anything that might hurt you."

"I suppose," said Draco a little doubtfully, but Luna smiled at him with such conviction, he found it difficult to make a disparaging comment. "Well. It's getting late, and Mum will worry…"

"Of course," Luna said, and stood aside so he could step through the door and out into the hallway. "Thanks for letting me draw on your arm."

Draco pressed two fingers to said arm, above the material of his shirt. "Thanks for…" _Thanks for what? For accepting my thanks? For not kicking me out?_ "For tea," he finished lamely. "I'll see you at school, then."

"Don't let the Humdingers get to you!" she called as he set off down the hallway. He didn't reply, but the ink on his arm seemed to grow warmer, just a little bit.

* * *

Inside her room, Luna carefully unfolded the bird she had received before Draco had come in, smoothing out its wrinkles so she could read the note from her friend.

 _Luna –_

 _I don't know what he's doing there. Just keep an eye on him. Don't let him get near any of those books about Dark Arts. I'll come over tomorrow and we can talk._

 _– Astoria_

She smiled and folded the note back into a bird, letting it hop from her hands and flutter around her desk, before it settled down next to her other note-birds. There were only three, all of them from Astoria – nobody else in Ravenclaw seemed particularly inclined to pay attention to her, but she treasured the ones she did get.

 _And now to check Daddy's book collection and make sure he didn't take anything, or read anything he shouldn't have… I'm sure the Malfoys have an extensive Dark Arts book collection, so it would be silly of him to come all this way for some basic books, but…_

 _It's always possible Daddy has something obscure or weird that they don't. And it never hurts to be safe rather than sorry._

 _Just because he's lonely doesn't mean he's not dangerous, Luna. Don't forget that._

* * *

 **Queenswood Manor**

"Ginny!"

Her brother's voice was the first one she heard, although it certainly wasn't the only one calling her name when she stepped out of the fireplace and into the Potter family home. Before she could say anything in response, she'd been snatched up in a hug from Ron.

"Thank Merlin you're all right," he said, pulling back and looking over her in concern. "You _are_ all right, aren't you? Nothing happened at the safe house?"

"It's called a safe house, Ron," Ginny said, but even she couldn't tease him too much, after seeing how worried he'd been. "I'm fine, I promise."

"Good," Ron said, but his gaze was still solemn. "Merlin, Gin, we were all so worried…"

"It's good to have you back," Hermione added with a warm smile, gently shoving Ron away so she could hug Ginny. "DA meetings just haven't been the same without you."

Ginny stopped a pang of irritation before it could blossom. _That's not how it looked at the party, with Goldstein and Parvati and… never mind, stop that, Ginny, it's not important, and Hermione wasn't even there, so it's not her fault even if it was._

"Yeah," said Tristan, and when she looked over at him, his face was inexplicably soft. "I'm glad you're safe, Gin."

 _He's never looked at me like that before…_ She shook herself and offered him a smile. "Where are Neville and Luna? And…" She counted heads and found one redhead lacking. "Elissa?"

"Luna's gone home, and Neville and Elissa have been out somewhere in the backyard for hours, though I don't know where… or what they're doing," Hermione said, frowning briefly. "Well, I'm sure they're not in trouble or they would have activated the galleons."

"Can't really get in trouble around this house, anyway," Tristan said with a laugh. "I'm sure they're fine. Neville knows better than to let Elissa get away with trouble. Have you eaten dinner, Ginny?"

"Of course she has," said another voice from behind her. Tristan caught her arm and moved her out of the way before his mother could properly come through the Floo; he didn't let go until his father had joined them.

"You know better than to ask that of Molly Weasley's daughter, son," said James, grinning at his son. "Have you all eaten as well?"

Everyone nodded, although Ron piped up, "Dunno about Neville and Elissa, they never showed up for dinner. And Harry…"

"He went straight upstairs and we haven't seen him since," Tristan said, looking at his parents with concern. "Do you think someone should go get him?"

 _What's upstairs… oh, right, Sirius Black._ Ginny followed everyone's gazes up to the spiral staircase, leading to the second floor where the bedrooms and guest rooms were – where she knew that Sirius Black was being kept following the battle at the Department of Mysteries.

 _I can't believe I could forget, I was there, I watched it happen… Harry never even mentioned him at the safe house, either, but I guess he didn't feel the need to share all his worries with me._

 _Not that I would expect him to, but still._

That they had played the secrets game for hours, and she had let him in on her darkest secret, and he still hadn't said anything about what she knew must have been eating him up inside, the curse laid upon his godfather that kept him comatose for months now… it stung, just a little.

Lily looked up thoughtfully, her gaze sad. "No, I suppose not. Let him have his time. He hasn't seen Sirius in days. All the rest of you, will you be staying here tonight?"

Hermione and Ron nodded immediately; they rarely spent the summer months separate from Tristan. Ginny hesitated before nodding as well.

 _I could go back home, but what's the point, with everyone out of the house except for Bill, and Merlin knows I can't help Fleur with wedding planning, even if I really wanted to, which I don't… and all the summer DA meetings will be here, after all._

 _And Harry… he promised to teach me how to become an Animagus, and I intend to hold him to that._

A sudden burst of noise at the other door caught everyone's attention, and Ginny turned to see Neville and Elissa coming in from the backyard, Elissa carrying a golden-furred creature in her arms that she had never seen before.

"Elissa?" Lily asked in alarm, moving past them to see her daughter. "What's that?"

"Mrs. Potter," said Neville, a little out of breath. "We found this griffin out in the yard earlier and we were trying to give it a bath—" Indeed, Ginny noticed, the creature certainly did look sopping wet. "And it just started mewling but I looked all over and I don't think it's injured, it just keeps crying…"

"Can you help?" Elissa asked plaintively, offering the griffin to her mother. James had joined his wife and had his wand out, muttering diagnostic spells under his breath. "It's not evil, I promise, we checked and he wouldn't have gotten in if he wanted to hurt us but now he's hurt and I don't know why!"

Ginny crowded in closer to see the griffin, as did the other three, which only seemed to aggravate it more. It was definitely a beautiful griffin, all golden with a white eagle's head and soft white-and-gold wings that were fluttering rapidly. She'd never seen one before, and she could already see the glint of questions in Hermione's mind – they'd never studied griffins in their Care of Magical Creatures class, after all.

"Yes, we'll help it," Lily said, taking the griffin into her arms. "James, what's the verdict?"

"It's a boy," said James, raising his eyebrows at his wife. "And it's not injured, doesn't even have a splinter or anything. I have no idea why it's so upset…"

Before any of them could offer suggestions for the still-crying griffin, another noise was heard, this one heavy footsteps on the staircase. Ginny turned in time to see Harry thundering down the stairs, his eyes wide and panicked.

"Mum, Dad," he gasped, clutching the edges of the staircase. "Something's happening to Padfoot. I – I don't know what – I was just holding his hand and then… he's glowing now."

" _Glowing_?" James asked, frowning. "What do you mean – okay, I'll go look, Lils…?"

"Go," Lily agreed. "I'll be right up, let me just put this griffin down—"

James had already started up the stairs after his son, as had Tristan, who all but pushed past her and Ron to make it there, but before Lily could do anything about the cub she now held in her arms, the griffin let out a roar and started flying.

"Oh, my gosh," Hermione breathed, covering her mouth with her hand. The griffin must have been new to flying, because it wavered in the air for a bit, and out of the corner of her eye, Ginny saw Neville draw his wand to cast a Cushioning Charm – but then the griffin got the hang of it and began moving for real.

"Oi, what is that?" Harry demanded, his panic momentarily forgotten as the griffin bounced in the air up to where he was on the stairs, and then started higher. "What is it – oh, never mind, we have to go see Padfoot!"

Somehow managing to ignore the griffin flying just above him, he bounded back up the stairs, his father and brother on his heels, and disappeared around the corner to where Sirius' bedroom was.

Ginny stared up at where Harry had been, then glanced over at her brother. "Do _you_ know what just happened?"

"Not a clue," said Ron. "Hermione?"

"Let's just go see," Hermione said with a sigh, and took Ron's arm to drag him up the stairs. Ginny glanced at Neville and Elissa, who both seemed concerned, especially Elissa who let out a cry of "Padfoot!" when what Harry had said connected and darted up the stairs after Ron and Hermione.

Lily took a moment to close her eyes and take a breath. "Merlin help us, if something's happened to Sirius…"

"It'll be all right, Mrs. Potter," said Neville carefully, but not uncertainly. "He's not going to die, not on our watch. And…" He glanced up the stairs again. "I think that griffin cub is a friend. They're magical creatures, right? It can't hurt to have one in the room. Who knows what they can do?"

"Indeed." Lily didn't seem convinced but she offered Neville a tired smile. "Will you two set up a space in one of the guest rooms for that griffin? I'll need some place clean to examine him and see where he's come from… after all this is over, anyway."

"Of course," said Ginny, looking over at Neville, who managed a smile. "Good luck up there."

"Thank you, both of you," said Lily earnestly, and then turned to take the steps two at a time to join the rest of her family.

* * *

Upstairs, James ran into the room just after Harry and the griffin cub, only to stop short at the sight that greeted him. The other four children stopped behind him, although Elissa was small enough to slip around and see for herself.

Sirius was glowing, just as Harry said. Glowing red, like a light pulsing just underneath his skin. The rest of his conditions hadn't changed – his eyes were still closed and he hadn't moved from the bed, just as he'd been all summer.

"What's wrong with him?" Harry asked desperately, taking his usual place at Sirius' bedside. "I was just holding his hand – I swear I didn't do any magic or anything."

 _Not on purpose, no… but this isn't quite accidental magic, I don't think._

"Stay back," James warned his son, before walking up to Sirius' other side, letting the four children scatter around the room. He drew his wand and began casting diagnostic spells, barely even noticing when the griffin cub flew over the bed and then crash-landed on Harry's lap.

"What the hell?" Harry blinked down at his lap, where the griffin had settled – the impact had pushed him down into his chair. "Elissa, could you please control your new pet?"

"I don't know how to control him!" Elissa retorted. "Daddy, is Padfoot going to be all right?"

"I don't know," James muttered, narrowing his eyes at the results of his spell. The curse that had been laid on Sirius, the one that would have sent him to his death if they hadn't gotten it stabilized in time, was still there, its dark colors swirling just below the red of the magic Harry had cast. "He doesn't look that different, but that magic is running all through his body now, I have no idea how it'll react to the curse…"

"If it's Harry's magic, then it can't be trying to hurt him," Tristan pointed out from his other side. "Maybe he accidentally did some healing magic."

"I've never seen healing magic like this, though," Hermione said. "To heal a curse you need to get to the root of it, and pull it away from the body. You can do it with potions or spells, but Harry said he was just touching Sirius."

"I've heard of people healing with a touch," Ron put in. "But it's in old stories, fairytales… usually it happens when one character loves another too much to let them die. Or if they're just a really powerful wizard, but I think the last time there were healers like that was back in the Founders' times."

"Like Leonette the Lightbringer," Elissa said, eyes widening. "She was the best healer in all the lands, and she was married to Godric Gryffindor – they said his pet griffin often helped her while she was healing him after a battle, because…"

She trailed off, staring at the griffin cub, who had now quieted down and folded its wings, purring lightly in Harry's arms.

"Because griffins help with healing curses," Tristan finished softly. "Do you think this one…?"

Harry looked down at the cub in his lap thoughtfully, running a hand over its side. The griffin keened, then stretched a paw out. Its green eyes brightened, and seemed to glow. James felt a shiver run down his back.

 _I feel like I've heard this story before… but not like this, in real life. And this is my son, not a hero in a story… my father did warn me about this, though._

 _And Harry_ is _the heir…_

Harry's eyes, always so vividly green like his mother's, seemed brighter now, too, and as he laid his hands on the griffin, the creature pressed one paw to Sirius' arm. The points of connection started to glow, Harry to the cub to Sirius, and the red light within Sirius' skin grew brighter as well.

 _Of course, because griffins are the conduit for this sort of magic, healing of the soul and healing of the magic, where the curse had been placed… the same way Lady Leonette did it._

 _And griffins come to those who need their help. That must be why Elissa found it._

"What's happening?" his daughter whispered now, clutching Tristan's arm. Ordinarily, Tristan would have pushed her off and teased her, but he let her hold onto him this time, both of them watching Harry and the griffin in fascination.

"I think they're healing him," Hermione whispered back. "Look, Sirius isn't so pale anymore, he's starting to look like…"

 _Like his old self_ , James finished for her, although he couldn't find words at the moment. Harry's eyes were closed now, his breathing deep and even, the process clearly taking a lot out of him, even though the griffin was taking most of the magic on. The cub itself seemed to be getting sleepy the longer it went on, which likely meant it was almost over.

Breath bated, barely conscious of the door opening to let Lily into the room, James turned to look at his best friend.

Sirius' eyes fluttered, then opened, as bright a gray as they had ever been.

"Padfoot," James breathed, the first of them to speak.

"You're back," Harry said, and when James looked at his son, he was smiling, and the griffin cub had closed its eyes and gone to sleep, and then Harry –

And then Harry closed his eyes and passed out.


End file.
